


KGB with a Touch of America- Switch

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Bourne Legacy (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:16:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: When Natalia Romanov passes her final exam, her first mission is to kill a man. It would be her first, and her instructor, James Barnes, helps her along. What she does when she's faced with killing him is a whole new question.





	1. Looks Can be Decieving

**Author's Note:**

> I'll have you know that this is my first, so I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm excited about trying this and I really hope that I don't have to duck in cover for some of it.  
> Also, I own no original characters.  
> I really, really, really hope this is good.

          “I don't know where you are, but you must be close. I haven't trained with you in weeks, and it's boring me. Training is a pain.” Natalia whispers to herself.

          She misses him terribly.

          “Life is pain, and it starts all over again with each new day.” Her mock instructor says from behind her. “You must be bold and push through the pain.”

          “Yes, instructor.” she mutters.

          “Embrace the pain, and use it to your advantage. It will give you an edge as they have nothing to push with. No adrenaline pushing them to their limits. Again.”

         Natalia repeats the motions of her training. She's being uncooperative and stubborn and he knows it. He knows she knows what he's saying, and will not take no.

         “Again. Let it flow together. Use gravity, momentum. They are your closest allies.” Yet again, he knows she knows how to utilize the skills, she's just being uncooperative.

         “Yes, instructor.” She tries it again and her muscles move more quickly as she loses the more robotic parts of the movement.

         “Your match is in two minutes. Prepare, and go.”

         Natalia nods and returns to her quarters and stretches. Her red hair billows around her neck. Most of the girls wore theirs up, claiming it got in the way, but Natalia knew better. It gave her an edge for the other girls to think she was at a disadvantage. She was not.

         Natalia arrives at the arena and her match partners join her. Arilyn, and Nytyra, and Berilda. Natalia could almost scoff. She had private lessons these three were part of the rest of the class. Inseparable and never paired against each other.

         Explains why they're still alive.

         Their separate instructors come into the ring. Natalia will have to fend for herself. They are all supposedly trained equally. But one of the instructors, not her current one, had singled her out and asked to train her on her own. They had taken a good look at her and asked why. He had shrugged and said he saw something under the surface. They let him have her.  
She liked to train alone. He had been taken from the base with another mission that required him and had been gone for a week. She missed him. He had trained her for years on her own and had taken special care to train her well and hard without forcing information down her throat. She was twenty, and he was young as well. She had grown very attached to him and he of her.

         He taught her Korean so that he could speak to her as he liked. And many other languages. Latin, Chinese, Japanese, Cantonese, Hindi, and a lot more. She could speak to anyone with a perfect accent and fluency in all of them.

         Her current instructor was a downgrade. _Her_ instructor had told her of her coming evaluation. They never watched them and were eager to see what kind of special training he could have given her.

         There were days that he snuck her out of the compound to let her use his rifle. And what a beautiful marksman she was. He was still better by a long shot, but she was good. He gifted her a rifle, like his so that it would be familiar. Beautiful .50 caliber. Long range precision ACOG scope. She could shoot smaller weapons too. And the fun part was, she got her own room on his building instead of with the rest of the students. She was essentially his to the rest of the trainers, and she could have cared less. They would snicker at her as she roamed the halls with her free time.

          'Look at the way she walks. Slowly and without purpose. She would be lucky to hit a man if she could reach him fast enough.' or 'Spends her time wandering around, it will be a wonder if she lives through her assessment.'

          What they don't know is that what she's really doing is what her instructor had taught her. She was appearing vulnerable to her enemy. They already hated her for being chosen over the rest of them. He would get her books to study, on weapons, martial arts, anything she wanted. And at night, he would light a small lamp and they would spar in the darkness. While they sparred, he would ask her what she had learned in her roaming.

          'Weaknesses.' she would say. 'Or strengths?'

          'Start with strengths, then we shall see what you have some up with.'

          She would hang around the small arena and watch the other girls spar, watching their patterns from the shadows, and picking out the strong from the weak. The weak ones weren't necessarily bad either, just sneakier. They would use height or size to their advantage. Needless to say, she studied them, and studied them well.

          'Arilyn keeps too wide of a stance for her size, but she's fast and compensates. Nytyra, aims too high for her own good, and her opponents are starting to expect it with her new height. She's the tallest of the girls. Berilda is huge, but she keeps her stance more reasonable and aims high and low to confuse.' She's slow, so if Natalia can get behind her, and mess up her balance, she will be easy to handle.

          'What of the other girls? And I asked for strengths.'

          'I'm telling both, to save time. Katia is too small, and doesn't know how to use that against others. Alexa takes too much time at her jabs, but she swings hard. Nadia uses her legs and arms almost equally, which could make problems, but in doing so, she leaves herself open for a few seconds that will cost her dearly.'

          He just laughed. 'You are doing well, young widow. They will see you for what you are when your assessment comes. And I will be there for it.'

          Yet here she stands. Her instructor isn't here. He was so proud of her on that last night. She had trained, day and night for this, and he couldn't even see it. Natalia was dejected. He had taken her to train on her own when she was thirteen, been one of her instructors for three years before that. Ten years of training with him involved.

          But then the greatest moment of her life occurs. Her substitute instructor gets a call and she hears a growly voice on the other end.

          'Leave. Her instructor is back.'

          He ends the call and walks towards the exit of the arena.

          The other girls start laughing. “What's wrong? Does your instructor not want to watch you get pummeled?” Idiots. They were trained to not be petty.

          Her sub instructor walks up behind the three girls and says quietly, “No, her real instructor has returned, and will be watching the fight.”

          Then he leaves and the other girls are silent. Her real instructor strides into the arena. Tall, proud, gloriously muscled, handsome. His hair is washed and back in a ponytail.

          Natalia dips her head respectfully, speaking to him in Polish. “It is good you have returned. I was growing bored.”

          “I am glad to be back as well, for I had missed our late nights.” He responds in kind.

          The other girls raise their eyebrows. “What did he say?”

          “I said that it's time for the match to begin.” He speaks to them in Russian and they almost swoon at the sound of his smooth voice. Natalia rolls her eyes. They never seemed to care much for him when they first started training with him. It was only after he took her on personally did they take notice.

          The rest of the class comes to watch. Natalia eyes all of them, daring them to say anything to her while her instructor is watching. Her three opponents line up in a half circle about ten feet from her and she aligns her body into combat position. The rest of the girls use similar positions, but not quite the same. The training she had received from her instructor was more advanced than they knew and they looked like they were severely questioning their decisions in life.

          Arilyn struck first. The other two advanced at the same time. Natalia rolls to the left and deflects Arilyn's second blow as well, grabbing her arm and wrenching it. She pushes her into the other girls and backs up, giving them space for their advance.

          Nytyra comes out of the pile first and comes at her with arms outstretched.

          'Let their rage control them.' _her_ instructor’s words ring in her ears.

          She slips out of the way, stopping her by her hair and wrapping an arm around her neck, snapping it. She turns to the other two girls and they advance. She fights them both at the same time, twisting gracefully and effectively away from their attacks and striking back with her own until they are both dead.

          Her instructor beams with pride, while the others look astonished. Only one of them looks unsurprised.

          “Take your girl on her first mission. We will see how she does with more and better opponents.” says the unsurprised one.

          Natalia follows her instructor as he leads her from the arena out to the perimeter. The gate opens and she steps out, her first sanctioned steps outside of the compound.

          “You did well, Natalia. You have progressed very nicely over the years.' Her instructor speaks with a note of fondness.

          “Thank you. It is because of your training that I did so well. I thank you for taking me as a student.”

          Ten years, and he had not changed one bit. No change in facial features, or structure, as if he did not age. She stared unabashed at him.

          “Natalia, I am proud of you. And I say this with respect, but Natalia, I have feelings for you.”

          Natalia is not stunned, surprised, or in the least bit unhappy. “I know.”

          He nods slowly, as if expecting that she had. “And?”

          “I feel the same way.”

          He seems almost visibly relieved. “Good. But you know what that means. I can't go on training you. I can't be personally attached to you.”

         “Yes, you can. It'll be our little secret.”

         “But they will be interested in you now. They will watch you and me.”

         “No they won't. They never have. If they were worried that you would train me too well, they wouldn't have let you train me.”

         He nods.

         “So will you tell me your name?”

         “Eventually.” he responds.

         He walks up to a shed and opens the door, revealing a motorcycle.

         “Where are we going?” Natalia asks.

         “We're going to your mission of course. You are going to kill a man. He's an American on SHIELD's radar. If they get him, he will go to their side. But not if we eliminate the threat.”

         “Got it. My first man. What's he like?”

         “He's tall, blonde, and skilled. He will fight back, so be prepared.”

         “What if he somehow gets away?”

         “Well, if we miss him, they'll send you after him the next time he pops up on our radar. Hopefully SHIELD hasn't gotten to him by then. They will have trained him further if they do.”

         “What if he kills me?”

         “Well, you'll be dead, and all of my time and effort will be wasted. Natalia, I believe that you can do this.”

         “Thank you, for everything.”

         “I'll still be with you along the way, just out of sight.”

         “Will you be my eye in the sky?” she asks.

         “Any day, except today. I can't help you. I'll show you your hotel room where you'll set up shop, there will be a picture there of your target, and your rifle. They had me setting up your mission during the week.”

         “How did they know I would pass the first part of the assessment?”

         “Because they know me. The rest of the instructors were only surprised that you passed because they saw you roaming the halls all the time. What they saw, and what you were actually doing were not the same thing.”

          Natalia nodded as she settled on the back of the motorcycle behind him. “What if we could flip him?”

          “What?” he asks.

          “What if we could flip him?”

          “Who?”

          “The target.”

          “They don't want to take the chance of him denying us and going straight to SHIELD.”

          “Can I try to flip him with the tactics you taught me?”

          “You? Well, it's your mission. They expect you to kill him and come back with a kill order complete. But I don't think they'd complain if you came back with an asset instead.” He starts the motorcycle and pulls out towards Moscow.

          “So why is he here?”

          “He's here for a heist.”

          “What's he stealing? And how did he get here from America without going through normal channels?”

          “He's clearing out the bank vaults throughout the city. He's part of a moving circus that's making a stop here.”

          “Why is a circus clown on SHIELD's radar?”

          “He's an incredible fighter and a great shot with anything.”

          “How did they find out about him?”

          “The same way we did. There were heists all around any time that they were in town, it wasn't hard to pick up. There are others with skills, but he's the one that we're worried about.”

          “Because he's such a big deal with SHIELD?”

          “Yep.”

          “Cool.”

          “No, not cool. Be careful. If he sees you and sends out the alarm, they'll be gone.”

          “What about you?”

          “I'll be in your ear the whole time. There's a comm link in your rifle case. It's an unlisted frequency and should keep us from prying eyes.”

          “Good.”

          “You have a view of the back door of the first bank they'll hit. That's their MO. Go in through the back, tripping breakers, turning off cameras, anything they need, then going out to the roof. You’re in a hotel about five blocks away on the top floor. If you choose to try to flip him, then you will have to approach him at his act tonight. The first heist is two days from now.”

          “Okay. I want to flip him.”

          “Have fun. I hear he's stubborn, and actually attached to that band of thieves.”

          “What are they, his substitute family?” Natalia asks.

          “Basically. His brother died, so now he's alone and making a living robbing banks.”

          “Hope he's a looker. It'll be easy for me to want to at least try if he's handsome.”

          “Hey now. I thought it was me you were after.” He protests.

          “I am, but I have to get to him somehow, and a beautiful woman, and a handsome man go together hand in hand.”

          “Very poetic. Try not to get yourself killed.”

          “Who am I?” Natalia asks, sensing the closeness of the mission.

          “Natalie Vorchtov. Daughter of some famous Russian artist. Rich.”

          “Sounds like his kind of woman.”

          He stops in front of a hotel at the middle of the street. The building he points to that she'll go to is on the left, the bank is further down the street on the right. The buildings around it are short and so is the bank. No wonder she'll have a clear shot of the back alley if he doesn't come with her.

          “See you soon.”

          She gets off the motorcycle and approaches the building, walking into the lobby. She goes up to the desk and rings the bell.

          A perky young woman, about 25, comes up to the desk and straightens out her dress. “May I help you?” Her accent is light, Slovakian.

          “Yes, I am registered for a room on the 7th floor. My name is Natalie Vorchtov.”

          The woman looks over at the screen. Her hair is a strange cream color, and her eyes are an electric blue that contrast enough that her more pointed features balance out with her more round ones.

          “Ah, yes I have you right here. Will you need an escort?”

          “No, just the room number and the key, thank you.”

          “All right, Room 716, and the elevator is just that way.” She points to a corridor on the left.

          Natalia thanks her and moves towards it, instead heading for the stairs at the end of the hallway. She runs up them for a quick workout. Seven flights is nothing. Not compared to her midnight runs outside in the woods with her instructor. He made her go for miles. Taught her to sprint them at full speed whilst conserving energy to kill people later.

          She finds her room and slides the key in the slot. The door clicks open and Natalia strolls in, seeing her rifle case on the table in the middle of the room. The closet is just to the right of the door and the bathroom to the left. She opens it and finds it wonderfully compensating. The sink has two basins on separate parts of the table to her immediate left. The tub/shower is on her right. That thing could fit four people, comfortably. It has the option of jets or bubbles. The rest of the room holds towels along the walls of the huge empty space. She smiles and turns back into the main hallway, closing the door behind her.

          She walks into the main area of the hotel room.

          The table in the middle of the room is low, a mere foot from the ground. A clear glass top with chrome legs that curl from the bottom of the glass to the floor, set on a wavy oval frame. She looks to her left and sees a small kitchen area. The chairs go with the cream color of the room, set at angles along the table, their seats a dark blue. They have white circles patterned on them. She sits on one and finds it nice and soft. And it spins. Spinny bar stools.

          The kitchen table itself is a marbled white on a set of mahogany cupboards. She opens the fridge and raises her left eyebrow. Vanilla Vodka and rich chocolate. She grabs the chocolate and moves around the rest of the apartment. She moves to the middle of the space and opens a sliding glass door, moving out to the small deck space. She would take a deep breath, but there's nothing hugely fresh to breathe. The view is great, and she'll be able to see the night lights. She has four hours to kill until she has to go to the circus. She walks back in and turns to her left, seeing the bed. The sheets are pure white and the pillows are that dark blue that match with the cream.

          She runs a hand on it and it's soft. She goes to the closet to see what he had picked out for her. The first things her hand reach for is the navy blue dress. Halter-strapped, open-backed, floor length with a split that runs up to half of her right thigh. It gets slimmer at the knees and spreads again at the bottom. Small diamonds follow the split on the left side. She looks down at the floor and finds a pair of heels the right height to accommodate for the dress dragging the floor. Now she'll glide.

          She moves to her rifle in the center of the room and opens the case. As promised, her rifle is in it, and so is the comm link. She puts it in her ear and hears a throaty laugh from the other end. She glances at the picture of her target. So he is a looker.

          “Where are you?” she asks.

          “Can't tell you, it's a secret.”

          “What's with the dress? I'm not wearing that to the circus, am I?” she asks.

          “Yep. Lots of rich people attend in good clothes, so I figured we'd dress you accordingly.” He drawls from the other end of the line.

          “Fine. What if he doesn't accept?”

          “Shoot him, of course.”

          “Right. Well, I'm going to get my rifle set up just in case, and then I'm going to take a short nap, then I'm going to the circus.”

          “Be good.” her instructor advises.

          “Always.” she responds.

          “Right....”

          She shakes her head and mutes her comm. She goes to her rifle and assembles it, pulling the parts together smoothly with practiced hands. She aims for the back alley door and sets her gun in the correct position. She attaches the silencer and uses the small table to get up high enough to peer into the alley without the neighbors seeing her gun. She then goes over to the bed and flops onto it. She falls into a light sleep.

          She wakes three hours later and takes fifteen minutes to get to the circus. Eight o' clock on the dot. She watches the act and sees why SHIELD would be interested. If it weren't for her handsome instructor, she would be interested. When he gets done she intercepts him as he enters his changing room, taking off his shirt.

          She claps and throws in her Russian accent, making it light as possible. “That was a beautiful performance.”

          He turns and pulls his bow up.

          “Relax. You wouldn't hit me anyway.”

          “Don't be so sure.”

          He pulls the string of his bow taught and she smiles. “Come on now, you wouldn't hurt a lady.”

          He looks her over with looming eyes. “That depends. Who are you?”

          “I'm Natalia.”

          “No last name?”

          “We've just met. What about you?” she takes a graceful step forwards and his aim steadies further.

          “Clint, Clint Barton. I must say, you know how to dress yourself up. Now what do you want?”

          “It is true that in two days, you are going to rob a bank?”

          He blinks. “How do you know about it?”

          She nods approvingly. “Good boy, no sense lying now that you've been caught. I know because I am part of an organization of powerful people.”

          “SHIELD?” he asks, with a sigh.

          “No.”

          “Good, because I already turned them down. What are you from?”

          “I'm the KGB.”

          “No thanks lady. As much as I'd like to, no.”

          “Well, it's your funeral.” She turns around and begins walking away. “Because it is me who has to kill you if you don't become an asset.”

          “Wait, what? Hey, wait! What are you talking about?”

          Natalia turns back around and glides smoothly over to him. She puts a hand on his chest. “If you don't become an asset for us, or one of us, then the day you rob the bank, will be your last.”

          “Why?” his voice is suddenly very throaty and he clears it.

          “Because the KGB see you as a threat. If you were to accept SHIELD's offer...”

          “Which I won't.” he sniffs stubbornly.

          “And become an agent for them, then they would train you, give you fancy new toys, and I would still have to kill you”

          “What if I think I don't need to be bossed around by some high-ups and avoid your death ray or whatever it is you think you'll kill me with?”

          “I'll still kill you.”

          Her instructor mutters over her comm about being too confident for her own good. She smiles again, predatory.

          “I need to think about it.”

          “Don't think too hard, you might hurt yourself.” she muses. “Just remember, a little goes a long way. Allegiance to us will get you training and a spot waiting for you, without having to even break the law to get your money...” she tilts her head to the side with an alluring smile. “And a lot more of it than what you're getting.”

          “But these guys raised u... me. They took me in and gave me a place.”

          “You feel they are your family, no?” she lets her voice turn lighter still, somehow delicate, but pushing.

          “Yes, I mean, uh, I don't know.”

          “If you don't know, then why not?” She pauses, glancing around, sensing another presence. “Don't reveal me.” she whispers, and disappears into the shadows of the surrounding room.

          A tall man with and eye-patch struts into the little changing room. Clint still looks a little confused, before he settles on a bored expression.

         “What do you want, Fury?”

         “I just wanted to ask you if you were sure that turning us down is what you wanted. Is it? Because we can guarantee the safety of your famil....”

         “I don't have any family!” Clint shouts. Natalia smiles from her hiding spot as fierce pleasure courses through her.

         'Good work Natalia.' Her instructor speaks low.

         “We can be your family, if you let us take you in, train you to be as good as....”

         “What, Captain America? As some big deal who was part of the past. He may have helped shape what it is today, but he's not everything. I don't want your stupid family, or your training. What I want is to be left alone. So stop coming here and nagging on me to join you, because it isn't going to happen.”

          The dark skinned man just nods. “Have it your way.” He turns and stalks out the door, well, flap.

          Clint tilts his head back with a frustrated sigh. Natalia comes out of the shadows behind him.

          “Are you sure that I'll have a place?” Clint asks.

          “A place, and more. We don't want to give you family. We want to give you purpose. And I 'm going to be perfectly honest with you. You would be a far greater asset if you weren't dead, and I don't really want to kill you. If I see you at that bank robbery, I will know your answer, and I will, kill you. If not, meet me.”

          “Where?”

          Natalia smiles again, dragging him in. “Stand on the roof of the bank.”

          “But you said if you saw me there, you'd kill me.” He turns around finally and frowns.

          Natalia taps a nail against his chest. “I won't kill you if you don't go in with your team. If you stay out and climb to the roof, I will know your choice.” She tilts his head so he's looking her in the eyes. “And it is your choice. But remember, one choice kills you, the other gives you a new life with open opportunities.”

          He seems to consider it. “I still need to think about it.”

          “You have until the robbery.” She shifts her hips as she walks from the room, swaying with an invisible current. “Choose wisely.”

          She can feel his gaze on her until she leaves his room. She leaves immediately and goes back to her hotel room.

          “That was good, though you might not have told him so many times that you would kill him.” Her instructor's voice comes over the comm.

          “All part of my charm. Trust me, he'll come around.”

          “I trust you little widow. But I don't trust him.”

          “Too bad.” She takes off the dress and dresses in comfortable night clothes from the closet and lies on the bed with her feet in the air.

          She stares at her rifle, a beautiful piece of power that fits perfectly into her hands. She imitates shooting a hand gun and hears a chuckle in her ear.

          “It'll be a surprise if he doesn't walk away from them. You make a convincing argument. By the way, I've let our bosses know that you're trying to flip him and they approve, as long as it works.”

          “It'll work, you'll see.”

          The day passes by horribly slow and she sets up on top of her little table when the time comes for the robbery to start.

          She pulls one bullet into the chamber and waits. She can see the back door and then a flash of activity. The people flood in and she sees Clint. He hesitates at the door and takes a step back. He's the last one to go in, and they haven't noticed yet. Clint hesitates for a second longer before moving to the ladder to the roof.

          “That's it. Good boy.” He goes to the middle of the roof and stands there.

          Natalia discharges the bullet in the chamber and puts in a specialized one. She fires it at the roof of the building straight across the street and purple smoke rises from the impact spot. Clint looks around for her and he looks over in that direction next. He sees the plume of smoke and starts to building hop over to it. She climbs down from her perch and goes to meet him.

          He lands on the roof of the designated building just as she reaches it.

          “Glad to know that you have common sense.” Natalia smiles at him.

          He smiles too, but not as widely. “Why you?” he asks.

          “Why me what?”

          “Why was it you who they sent to recruit me?”

          “I was sent to kill you, not recruit you. I'm just doing you and us a favor.”

          “Us?”

          Natalia nods and then asks him if he has transportation.

          “Yeah, I rent a car in the big cities. It's parked right over there.”

          The space across the street in the parking lot of the motel holds dozens of cars. She nods and tells him to get it later, and she lets her instructor know that the mission was a success.

          “What happens if they come after me for betraying them?”

          “You kill them.”

          “I'm not going to kill them.” He protests.

          “If you won't I will. You are now my ally and partner. I won't let them get to you.”

          He nods. “Where do we go from here?”

          “You, you come with me to my room. I really do hope that you like the decision you made.”

          He nods again.

          Natalia smiles and climbs down from the roof, and he follows her. She strolls casually across the street with him in tow. She takes the stairs again and tells him the floor and door number.

          “I, think I'll take the elevator.”

          “Fine, have it your way. See you there.” Natalia starts racing up the stairs and he heads for the elevator. She pulls out her key and opens the door, waiting for him to knock once she's inside. Light knocking on her door lets her know that he found her. She opens the door with a smile.

          “Good, you made it.”

          She feels her instructor's presence behind her. Clint sees him and hesitates.

          “Don't worry about him. He's my instructor.”

          “Instructor? I thought this was your mission?” he asks.

          “It is, but it's my first.”

          “And congratulations on your first asset and assignment. You made a good choice.” He sits down on the small table behind him.

          Clint walks in cautiously and then sees what else is on the table. It's close to the sliding door, with it all the way open. A rifle. He approaches the glass doors and Natalia sees her instructor's eyes following him.

          “You can see the bank from here.” He says.

          “Told you that I would kill you.” Natalia smiles.

          “I can't say that I believed you then, but I believe you now.” He shakes his head.

          Her instructor smiles at her with pride. He gets off the table again and approaches her. “You've done well, little widow.” he speaks in Italian

          “I learned from the best.” Natalia smirks.

          “Well, the best would not have turned him as you did. I would have killed him without questioning orders, but you saw the opportunity for what it was.”

          “Thank you.”

          Clint turns from the door and closes it. “You got a nice place here.”

          “This is only for the mission.” Natalia responds, making the switch to English quickly.

          “Pretty nice place for a one-time deal.” He says.

          “I didn't pick it.”

          “What about that dress, did you pick that?” He asks.

          Natalia turns to her instructor and speaks to him in Russian. “Can I keep the dress?”

          He nods. “It's yours, you've worn it now.”

          Natalia turns back to him and smiles again, cryptically. Clint shakes his head.

          “You are impossible.”

          “No, I am secretive.” Natalia grins wickedly.

          Clint laughs. Natalia raises a brow.

          “What?” she asks, feminine now, sweetly enticing.

          It's Clint's turn to be surprised. “How do you change from angel to demon so quickly?”

          Her instructor laughs now. “Years and years of practice.”

          Natalia scowls.

          He just looks at her. “We'll head back to base in the morning. They'll ask where you want to be housed, but I'm going to take you on as a student with Natalia. My bet is you'll have a lot of catching up to do.”

          Clint laughs. “This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

          Natalia narrows her eyes. She doesn't know if she likes the thought of them being friends. She kicks her shoes off and settles onto her bed. Her instructor settles down on the floor on the left side and Clint arranges the pillows on the small futon next to the short table. He settles onto it, but doesn't fall asleep for a long while. Natalia stays awake until she hears his breathing slow, wondering what he could be thinking about. What if he thinks he made the wrong choice?

          No. Natalia refuses to believe that he would turn back now that he's already crossed into her world. Now she's gotten to know him, and she likes him as a person. How will she kill him if he turns away from them?  
Her instructor would have to do it. But would he? She can already tell that he likes Clint's personality, but was he ruthless enough? Was he willing to kill for her?

          She falls asleep and wonders just what would happen.


	2. Compromised in Every Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were doing so well. They had graduated and made it through initiation alive. But, of course nothing really goes their way. And the chapter title kinda says what happens next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically two chapters in one, mostly because I couldn't find a nice place to split it up. So I hope you guys enjoy. Oh, and referencing other movies is a happy "mistake", so if you can get them, yay! She hooked the odometer up last after all the test driving was over (by Jarvis), so there were no official miles on the gauge, for all you sticklers out there.(In this story, the graduation ceremony does not include getting her lady parts ripped out, or their man parts either. Prepare for babies in the long run.) :)

          Morning comes quickly and she rises at six, just as her instructor had woken her every day. She had never had him sleep so near, but she looked down on the floor and he's gone. She looks to where Clint should be sleeping and he's gone too. They must have gone out. Natasha stretches and hears a scuffle in the bathroom. She jumps from her bed and runs to the door, swinging it wide open.

          “Kill him, asset. Now.”

          “Instructor?” Natalia asks, seeing Clint back up against the wall with another man standing at her instructor's side.

          He turns slowly and a pang goes through her at the blank expression on his face. The man who told him to kill Clint sounded German. Natalia pulls the gun that she put in under her pillow, since she had brought it with her at the noise.

          “Who are you?” she demands.

          She pulls a round into the chamber. He looks at her and then says something strange. “Hail HYDRA. Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” She fires.

          She has never killed a man before, but it feels no different than killing a woman. She goes to stand between her instructor and Clint.

          “Instructor?” she asks again.

          He responds in Russian. “Ready to comply.”

          "What happened to him?” Clint asks, still back against the wall.

          “I don't know. This has never happened before.” Natalia shakes him a little.

          “Ready to comply.” he says again.

          Natalia shakes her head. “Come back to us. I know that you're in there. It's me Natalia! Your little widow.” She speaks to him in Russian. “I order you to snap out of it!”

          He blinks at her, as if he does not understand. And then he sees her. He also speaks in Russian. “My little widow, are you all right? What happened?”

          “You were under someone's control somehow.”

          “Hydra. They don't want him alive. The KGB are okay with it, but Hydra must not be.”

          “What happened to you? You weren't yourself.”

          “You're right. I wasn't. I was the Winter Soldier.”

          “Why? What did he do to you?” Natalia glances over at Clint and he's looking at them both with a questioning expression on his face.

          “The programmed me, and when they trigger me, I go into compliance mode and then they can make me do whatever they want.”

          “Then why didn't you kill Clint like he told you to?”

          “Because I wasn't fully triggered. I can resist to a certain point. If I was triggered fully, you wouldn't have been able to bring me back so easily.”

          Natalia nods. “Do you know why they want him dead?”

          “No.”

          “We should get back to base.” Natalia suggests.

          He nods and moves over to Clint, extending his hand. “Sorry about that.”

          Clint hesitates before shaking his hand. Natalia realizes something about him is different and she looks at his left arm. It's metal. He had always worn a sleeve on that arm, and she had just assumed that there must have been horrible scarring or something that he hadn't wanted her to see.

          “What happened to your arm.” she asks.

          “I... I don't remember.” he answers in Russian.

          “What do you remember?”

          He shakes his head. “Not much, and when I try to think about it, my head gets all fuzzy. I remember being a member of a team, and glimpses of a blonde guy.”

          “Do you know how old you are?” she asks.

          He shakes his head again. “Never really been sure. I can't be very old, but then again, I've been, I think, frozen a lot over the years.”

          Natalia nods and then turns around to look at Clint. “Get your car, and follow us to the compound.”

          Clint gulps and nods. “Okay.”

          “My bike is parked out front.” Her instructor pulls out of the room, letting Natalia lead the way.

          She lets them out of her room after packing up the clothes she wanted into the spare space in her rifle case. Clint opens doors for her and her instructor helps her carry things. Clint lets her put her stuff in the back of his car and he follows them to their base.

          When the others see him, their raised eyebrows are their only response. Natalia keeps a neutral expression, but Clint can't keep his eyes from wandering around the place. Her instructor keeps him in a straight line by walking on his right while Natalia walks on his left. There is a mission adviser sitting at the desk in the middle of the main hall.

          “Completed or failed?” she asks without looking up.

          “Completed.” Natalia answers. “Asset obtained. New recruit obtained.”

          She looks up at the word recruit. “Ah, so you were able to bring him in.” she stands up from her desk. She has long fingers and skinny arms, giving the skeleton impression. She puts her hand out to shake. “I am Armania. I am the mission director here most of the time. On the days that I'm not, I have my own missions.”

          Clint shakes her hand firmly, keeping himself from sticking his tongue out at the weird soft feel of her skin. She sits back down and grabs some papers form a drawer. She hands them to Clint and he wraps his strong fingers around them as she hands him a pen.

          “Regular student?” she asks.

          Her instructor responds this time. “Personal student. Mine.”

          Armania nods and he tells Natalia to wait for him and Clint in his wing of the base. Natalia nods respectfully and heads that way. She walks past the mess hall with a straight back and a regal air around her. Maybe she was too proud for it only being her first successful mission. But it was one more mission than they had done. Her instructor's end of the compound is straight through the mess and all the way to the end. He has four separate rooms. One of which is hers, and another of which will be Clint's. The third is his and the fourth is free. It's her instructor's armory.

          Natalia likes to peek inside from time to time to see what new weapons he's collected, but not today. She walks to his room and sits on the bed. She scratches carvings into the bedposts as she always does when he isn't there. He's never asked her about them, and she never says anything.

          She hears footsteps in the hall and she puts her knife away. Clint's footsteps are the ones she knows she's hearing. Her instructor treads very quietly. He opens the door and gestures for her to follow them. Clint is standing next to him with a straight face. Her... their instructor leads them to Clint's room and he puts a case of his own on the bed. He had changed in the hotel bathroom before they left.

          Clint turns back to him. “What do I call you? She calls you instructor, but what do I call you?”

          “She knows that she should call me by the name that they have for me here, but chooses not to. Here, I am called Ghost. You may call me as such, or choose as she does. Call me what you like, I do not care.”

          Clint nods. “Last name Natalia?” he smiles.

          “Romanov.” She answers.

          “Good to meet you.” he puts out his hand.

          “It's good to meet you too Mister Barton.” she smiles again, shaking Clint's outstretched hand.

          “You are officially mine as of today.” Her instructor says.

          “What like, your property?” Clint frowns.

          “No, my student. Except in becoming my student, I lay claim to your life for the time being. Meaning if I see fit to punish or reward, I can do so.”

          “When does that end?” he asks.

          “When you graduate. Natalia has completed her first real mission and in doing so will move to my hardest class.

          She pumps a fist with a yes. “I've been waiting for this.”

          “Your evaluation will be against the boys that are here, and you will have to kill your opponents. No hesitation.”

          Clint nods. “I'll learn.”

          “Good.”

          **2 years later.**

          Long story short, Clint graduated and caught up quickly so that he and Natalia could graduate at the same time. Ghost made sure that they both could beat each other into the ground if they had to, and that they could never beat him there at the same time.

          Basically, they learned, he learned faster.

          Natalia was happy. Happier than ever. She has James; he told her his name when she got to his hard class. She graduated at the very top, meaning everyone else was dead, or didn't go up against her. Hint: very few people. James was proud of her, beyond belief. Clint was proud too, but his bragging rights were stunted considering she graduated three and a half minutes before him.

          Boys and girls graduate separately. So Ghost attended both ceremonies for the minute and a half of fame for each of his students. Given, the rest of the kids in the group class wanted to kill Clint because he also was at the very top of his class. Natasha is 22, and Clint is 24. Clint was already a great marksman when Ghost had begun training him, which he appreciated, but he was more difficult to train than Natalia. His fighting style differed greatly, which made him nicely unpredictable, but he wasn't too keen on any new moves that Ghost had to shove straight into his thick skull.

          Now though, he could learn anything.

          Then the loudspeakers cracked through the hallway. “Evacuate. Our compound has been burned! Evacuate. All agents stay behind to fight, but all students and trainers evacuate!”

          Clint looks at him from his seat and Ghost nods. “Come here!” he shouts over the sudden clamor.

          Clint gets up from his seat and finds Ghost through the running people. “What do we do?”

          “You're an agent now! You stay! We have to get Natalia from the other room!”

          They run to fetch her and she's rallying the other new female agents when she sees them. She strides quickly to reach them and her eyes are wild with excitement.

          “We should wait for them to come inside! That way we can keep out of sight and pick off the groups or singles that they send in!” Ghost tells her.

          “Good plan.” She turns to her small army of widows. “Hide yourselves, now! Pair up! We'll take out the teams after they breach. Stealth if possible!”

          The women scatter in an orderly fashion and disappear. Natalia goes with Clint and Ghost and they hide together, knowing that a bigger team would require all three of them.

          They crouch low and wait for the main entrance to open up. The base goes quiet. Groups of footsteps are heard approaching the main doors. 'Breaching in 3, 2, 1!” the doors open with a bang. 'Report main hallway is empty.' Ghost peers from his corner and sees five groups. Two with three people and three with five. The group that splits down their hallway is one of five. A man in their group trails behind, clearing corners and high and low. A small form approaches him from the shadows and it turns out to be Nira, second best in the class of girls. She stays in his blind spot and then jumps on his back, covering his mouth with one hand, and choking him with a garrote with the other.

          The group doesn't notice his death. Nira pulls him into the shadows. Another form, a boy, leaps out at another straggler. Ghost scoffs. Didn't they ever learn to keep tight formation? The now group of three comes around their corner and Ghost waves them forwards. They make their kills at the same time, then drag the bodies into their used corner.

          'How is it on the northeast end?' a female voice demands over the walkies.

          Ghost picks it up and tells her clear with a good American accent.

          'Good, report back to senior agent Hill.'

          “Yes ma'am.” Ghost responds.

          The line cuts and Ghost pockets the walkies talkie. They move to the northwest end of the hallway, towards Nira's room.

          'They're splitting us up.' They hear a whisper from the student hallway and move quickly past it. Clint jumps on a small scout, dropping him without a sound. Natalia finds Jergen pulling another body into the shadows.

          'I've lost Bennly and Sarrow.' the man whispers. 'The rest of the teams have gone dark.'

          Ghost turns to Clint. “Slip out the back doors.”

          “How, the scout is in the student hallway, and the doors aren't accessible through there.”

          “There's a passage in my room. Go into the walls and get to them. See what's happening out there.”

          “It's a good thing that no one leaves the blinds open on hot summer days.” Natalia whispers, seeing that if the windows were open, they would never have gotten here.

          Ghost nods.

          Just then the scout runs from the hallway. 'Reporting to scene.'

          The link to his walkies crackles open. 'If you're still there, report to the back of the compound. Senior Agent Hill has caught a male suspect, approximately 6' 1”, blonde.'

          Ghost scowls. “Hill.”

          “Have a history?” Natalia asks.

          He nods again.

          'Compound is clear. Several more males and females have been accounted for.'

          “Clint.” Natasha begs.

          “If they have him, we'll find a way to get him back.” Ghost growls. “And I don't care which Hill I have to shoot to do it.”

          “Fury. It's his order, isn't it?” She remembers him from the night she came to him at the circus.

          Ghost nods.

          'Pulling out. All agents left, report back to the quinjet.'

          They wait a full half hour after the noise fades away to come out and then they find the left over students and instructors gathering in the main hallway.

          “Who were they?” Nira asks.

          Of course the only other personally trained girl would make it.

          “SHIELD.”

          “How did they find us?” Nira's trainer, Armon asks.

          “I don't know.”

          “What about the others? We have to get them back.” Nira says. “There's at least fifteen of us missing.”

          “They'll find a way to escape.” Her instructor scolds.

          “Not from SHIELD.” Ghost responds.

          Natalia has an idea.

         

          **Meanwhile- Clint**

          “Get off of me!” Clint shouts.

          They're trying to load him into the quinjet. He had come out the back only to find a stunning woman wearing black Kevlar. Her brown hair falling around her shoulders with slight curls. Now, she was holding his arms behind him in cuffs and keeping him in check with a hand at his neck, keeping distance between her and him. She pushes him up the ramp with three or four other agents doing the same thing to others. She shoves him onto the small bench rather roughly and he nearly snaps at her.

          She secures him and then turns around to help the others.

          Clint clenches his teeth. He would hear it from Ghost when he got out of this. And Natalia. Oh, Natalia would bury him alive, then pull him out with 30 seconds of oxygen left, then she would slap him, repeatedly, then she would kill him, bring him back to life and slap him some more. Natalia wasn't very forgiving when it came to stupid.

          There were other jets around, he could hear them spinning up, but he couldn't see them from the dense tree line. The hatch closes up as the woman strides back in. Her brown eyes flash angrily when she looks back at him and he sneers in her direction. Another woman, a younger version of her, younger sister probably, sits in the pilot’s seat. The co-pilot calls out.

          “Hill!”

          Both women ask him 'what?' very snappy like.

          “Sorry, Senior Agent Hill.”

          The woman in the pilot’s seat grumbles something at the word senior.

          “What do you want, Asher?” she growls, her eyes flicking up to him.

          “Just wanted to let you know to hold on. We're lifting off.”

          Clint hears a light tink beneath his feet and smiles. Another light tink makes him smile wider. He switches back to a frown as the woman turns back to him. She's not happy, at all. For a moment Clint wonders what her problem is, but then again, she works for SHIELD, so who knows.

          “Umm, not to...” Clint starts.

          “Shut it!” she snaps.

          “Laura!” her sister calls from the front. “There's no need to be so angry all the time. Geez. And then you wonder why no one likes you.” The jet lifts from the ground.

          Clint snickers and she levels him with a glare that could flatten a tree. Clint doesn't budge under it and only stares back with the same intensity. Ghost is way worse. Clint leans back against the side of the plane and smiles. She only turns her head with a sniff. Clint closes his eyes with a secret that only he knows. There are stowaways on the bottom of the jet.

          He falls asleep in that position, his sly smile written all over his face.

          Clint wakes to the sound of the jet landing and finds Senior Agent Hill staring down at him. Maybe it was the fact that he almost beat her. If it wasn't for the younger Hill, he would have. Clint had woken up several times during the flight and watched how the pilots had handled the jet and he studied the controls.

          He knows now how to fly a quinjet.

          The woman pulls him up from his seat and pushes him out of the plane once the back hatch opens up. He stumbles purposely on the last step out of the plane and he goes down to a knee, pulling her with him. She falls onto her back and he gets up and jumps, pulling his legs up into a tight ball so he can pull his cuffs in front of his body. She's just about to her feet when Clint wraps his cuffed hands around Laura Hill's neck. Pulling her back, he looks over the edge of the flying carrier and sees nothing but air, and patches of ground far, far below.

          “There's nowhere for you to go.” Hill growls out. “Kill me, you die, jump, you die.”

          “I don't care.” Clint snarls next to her ear.

          He sees both Natalia and Ghost roll out from under the plane and he makes sure that Hill's focus isn't on them. They move under the plane two spots over and open the back hatch. Hill is unconscious by that time and he tosses her to the ground. The leftover agents pull their guns and open fire. Clint leaps from side to side, flipping up into the air and landing in the jet. He subdues them and frees the other prisoners. Six total.

          He directs them to the jet that Ghost and Natalia had opened up and then sits in the pilot seat.

          “You know how to fly this thing?” Natalia asks.

          “Yep.”

          Clint mans the controls like a pro and gets the bird in the air. The hatch closes and the last thing he sees as he looks back is Mister Eye-patch himself.

          “Search this thing for a tracker!" Clint calls.

          They start digging through everything until Ghost calls up to say he found it before ripping it apart with his bare hands. Well, uh.... Clint doesn't know what to call his metal arm. He smiles as a thought occurs to him. It'll be the Silver Ghost. Ha. How he didn't think of that over the years was incredible to him.

          Natalia comes and sits in the co-pilot seat and she smiles as he graces the controls. He taps on the pad a few times and activates stealth.

 

          **3 months later.**

          They moved to a new facility, being Russian spies and full agents, they got a new mission almost immediately.

          “New Mexico? What could possibly be there worth having?” Clint asks.

          “I don't know. But it's our mission Clint, so that's what we’re doing.” Natalia says.

          “What about Ghost? What's he going to be doing?”

          “He's off on another mission to who knows where. He'll be back.”

          Clint shrugs. “We'll see.”

          “You realize, that he was gone for a week two years ago setting up my mission to shoot you in the head, right?”

          Clint blinks. “Okay, he'll be back.”

          “Mm-hmm.”

          Clint packs his bow and Natalia raises an eyebrow. He hadn't used his bow in a long time. Not since the circus. Natalia looks longingly over at the dress in her closet. She wishes she had a mission worthy of it, so she could wear that dress again.

          New Mexico. Too warm. Natalia likes the cold better. She shrugs her pack onto her shoulder and they take the plane to New Mexico.

          Clint is Mark Chanceler. Natalia is Natasha Romanoff. They'll be working both sides of the system, so they won't see much of each other. (That would be both sides of the SHIELD system) Natalia smirks slightly at the thought of working apart but working together. Clint is napping in the upright position once again. Natasha leans her head against his shoulder and falls asleep.

          Their first real mission together.

          When they hit New Mexico, Clint splits off and heads into the desert to the center of activity, about five miles south of a teeny little town. And Nat readies herself for another long flight.

          **Clint's POV**

          He waits. He waits for the cover of darkness to hide him so that he can slip into the compound. Well, tarp city. Clint pulls his fake ID and fake SHIELD badge and wanders into the compound. A bald man comes up to him.

          “Who are you?”

          “Fury brought me in. I'm your marksman if someone gets to close.”

          Come on Natalia, Clint thinks. Please have already hacked SHIELD and put his name in the database.

          “That's not what I asked.”

          “Oh!” Clint chuckles. “I'm Mark, Mark Chanceler.” He puts his hand out for the man to shake.

          “I'm Agent Phil Coulson. I'll be your adviser, and you'll be up there,” he points up to a box hanging from a crane. “If we need you.”

          Clint pulls his weapon case off of his shoulder and pulls out his rifle, his bow hidden in a secret compartment in the bottom of the case.

          Phil asks if he can hold it and Clint hands it to him. “Very nice, Intervention. High powered, excellent range, bolt action. A beautiful rifle Mr. Chanceler.”

          “I had it custom made, Agent Coulson. It'll get the job done if it's needed.”

          “Good, we don't know who'll come after this thing. Be ready Mr. Chanceler.”

          “Yes Agent Coulson.”

          “Allow me to show you around the facility.” A normal soldier comes and picks up his rifle and sticks close by.

          Clint feels that it would be just plain rude not to accept. “Okay. Lead the way.” The first place he takes Clint is to the main attraction.

          “This is what we've been investigating, and we plan to keep it here at all costs. No one has been able to move it or we would have already taken it to a more secure facility.”

          “No one can move it?” Clint nearly sighs in relief that they couldn't move it, otherwise he would have missed his chance to see it.

          They enter the area and he frowns. “A hammer?”

          “I know, it doesn't look like much, but it has residual energy and is giving off radiation like nothing else. It's actually interfering with our tech.”

          Clint nods through the rest of the tour and then is about to settle down when Coulson comes into his makeshift room.

          “I need you to help me out with some surveillance.”

          “Where?” Clint asks, standing up.

          “In a little town. We're watching over an astrophysicist and her two assistants. We need to know who they're talking to and if they've told anyone about what's going on.”

          “Okay. Where am I going to be?”

          “You'll be monitoring from a rooftop.”

          Clint grins internally. Least he gets to be up high.

* * *

          When he first gets to the little town, he wonders if Coulson gave him bad directions. Then he sees the trio wander out of a little restaurant. The astrophysicist looks pretty harmless, and so does her female lab assistant. And wow, is her assistant a knock-out. She has a wide smile and a nice figure. She wears a scarf, as if compensating for something that isn't there anymore. Maybe a little stomach, but that is so far gone.

          _Focus, Clint._

          They walk into a coffee shop and he loses them from sight. He points his little microphone in their direction and hones in on them.

          The female assistant is talking. 'I'm going to call my dad, Jane. Don't let Selvig drain this place of coffee or there will be blood.'

          Clint can't help a small chuckle. She sounds like Natasha in the morning, except Natasha prefers vodka.

          Clint tries to listen in on her phone conversation, but all he's getting is fuzz. Weird. Clint turned back to his little control station and flicks a switch for more power. He still is only getting fuzz. All he can hear is her.

          'Dad, I get it. You don't want me home right now.' she groans in frustration. 'I didn't mean it like that. I want to come home, and I know you're having a rough....' She pauses. 'Dad! Are you freaking kidding me?! You were dying!' she struts out of the coffee shop and shoves a hand up in her mousy curls. 'I can't believe you didn't tell me. Did you at least tell... unbelievable.' she shouts at the phone. 'I can't believe you! You didn't even tell her!' Another pause. 'Sorry. I'm just worried. She was probably pretty pissed when she found out.'

          Clint raises his eyebrows at what she says next.

          'Don't even laugh about that. I don't want to get my inheritance. I'm not ready. I'm coming home, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.'

          Her dad's response was fairly obvious, and Clint winces as the static in his mike increases by about ten.

          She purses her lips and inhales. Clint can't stop staring at her from his perch even after she agrees to stay in New Mexico. He focuses back on the conversation between Selvig and Jane in the shop and finds that he doesn't understand a word until the assistant walks back into the place and makes them use human words.

          Her voice tapers off after a little bit and Clint frowns. He likes to listen to her talk. He can already hear Nat in his ear. _Clint Barton! Eyes on the mission. You work with beautiful women all the time, why are you getting stuck on a civilian?_

          He looks around the street for her and sighs, focusing back on the boring conversation between the scientists.

          “Watcha doin'?” a voice behind him asks.

          He falls out of his chair and drops his mike. “I, um, I'm listening to the birds?” he answers.

          She crosses her arms and waits. He swears she should be tapping her foot with a ruler in her hand. “Maybe the truth this time?” she asks.

          “I'm keeping an eye on you.”

          “For SHIELD?” she growls.

          “Yes, well, no... not exactly. Coulson....”

          “Oh, he is going to get it.” She looks up at the sky and shakes her fist. “Coulson, you will feel the wrath of DARCY LEWIS!!!” she exclaims.

          She huffs and looks back at him.

          “Um, sorry?” Jeez, Clint. When did you get so awkward in the field?

          “I doubt that. But okay. So who are you actually here for?”

          “Coulson....” Clint narrows his eyes. What's she getting at?

          “Liar. What's your name?”

          “My name is Cli..... MARK.” he blurts.

          “Climark? I feel sorry for you.”

          “My name is Mark.” he corrects.

          Darcy glares at him.

          “Promise not to tell Coulson?” he asks. _This is so childish. Maybe you should make her pinky-swear next._

          She crosses a hand over her chest in an 'x' motion. “Scout's honor.”

          “My name is Cl...” he hesitates.  _I should not be doing this._

          “Spit it out already! It can't be that hard to say."

          “Clint. My name is Clint.” he answers. “Clint Barton.”

          “That wasn't so hard, now was it?” she grins.

          Clint sits back in his chair and curls into himself.

          “What's wrong?” she asks. “And what was that name you tried to give me?”

          “Mark Chanceler.”

          “There is no way that is your name.” she laughs and sits down with him. “Besides. Clint suits you.”

          Clint knows he's in way too deep. He should never have talked to her. His job is to observe, not talk to them.

          “Clint. Are you afraid of something?” she asks.

          “You have to get away from me.” Clint hisses. “I'll only bring you trouble.”

          “Sure, and Jane is only watching rainbows.” she smirks.

          “Isn't she though?”

          That catches her off-guard. The complete innocence in that statement has her busting out laughing. “I wouldn't expect you to understand.” she pauses, blinking piercing blue eyes at him. “So what are you afraid of?”

          Clint shakes his head. “Nothing.”

          Darcy smirks. “Really? No night light, keeping all the monsters away from the big bad SHIELD agent?”

          That startles a laugh out of Clint. He knows he shouldn't, but dang-it, he likes her. “I'm not SHIELD.” he says.

          _Oh, crap._

          “I knew that. I asked who you were really here for. Weren't you listening?”

          “I guess.” he frowns. “You'll run away.”

          “It would take a lot to chase me off.” she says boldly. “Just ask my dad.”

          He sighs. “I work for... for the KGB.”

          Her eyes widen and she gasps. “You're kidding me.”

          Clint shakes his head.

          “What's that like? Is it hard? Do they really beat you when you do crap wrong? Did you almost die in training?”

          “What is wrong with you?” Clint asks. “I literally just told you I was a Russian spy and you didn't even blink.”

          “Crazy times.” she smiles.

          “I don't think you get it. I'm an assassin.” he frowns harder.

          “If you were going to kill me, you would have.” she smirks.

          “I would have if this wasn't a recon mission instead of a target one. And you don't even care that I'm inside SHIELD?”

          “SHIELD can go suck an egg. They messed with my dad, and I'm tired of them turning his life upside-down.”

          Curiosity gets the better of him. “What did they do?”

          “He said that they shot him with something that took away the symptoms of him dying, and then forced him to look for a cure. Still are. He's working on it.”

          “Why are you telling me this?” he asks. “I could find all those you care about.”

          “Sure, but you won't.”

          Clint's eyes widen and he looks at her. “Who are you?” he asks.

          She puts her hand out to shake. “Darcy Lewis. Poli-Sci grad with a tiny astrophysicist at your service.”

          Clint hesitantly takes it. “There is something seriously wrong with your reasoning.”

          “You are honestly the friendliest assassin I've ever met. So points for you.” she smiles.

          Clint's eyebrows rise in shock. “How many have you met before?”

          She giggles and looks him in the eyes. “I think your eyebrows are trying to escape. And I've met a sum total of you.”

          He looks her over again. Her hair curls in loose ringlets around her face, which is very nice if Clint does say so himself. She's wearing a pair of dark blue jeggings with black wedges. On her top, she's wearing a bright blue shirt with a white scarf wrapped expertly around her neck and shoulders. He gets back to her face and finds her doing the same thing he was.

          His outfit is pretty simple. SHIELD issue boots, jeans, and a light gray t-shirt. And his bow strap, but that doesn't really make a difference.

          “So, how long you gonna stick around?” she asks.

          “Not long. Until SHIELD is done investigating that hammer thing.” _Shut up, shut up. Stop talking_. His inner Natasha scolds him.

          “Hey, uh, do you want to get a drink later?” she asks.

          “What?” Natasha would slap him so hard he'd be unconscious for a week, but, but... “Yeah, sure. Just tell me when.”

          “Not tonight, though. We're out watching an aurora or something.”

          “I'll see you later, then?” he asks.

          “Yep.” Jane calls her name and she looks over the edge of the building. “Gotta go. It was nice to meet you, Clint.” she smiles wryly. “I mean, Mark.”

          He watches her go, getting one last glimpse of her blue eyes and curls before she's climbing down the ladder. Clint blinks and then huffs at himself.

          _**Idiot. Now what?** Go out with her, duh! **Nat is going to kill me.** Who cares? You just met a person crazy enough to hang out with an assassin._

          Clint sighs. “This isn't going to end well.”

* * *

          Clint slept on the roof that night. It wasn't too terribly cold, being New Mexico, but Clint gets cold anyway. Natasha always said he wasn't suited for Russia.

          Even as he gets progressively colder, he thinks of Darcy. He wipes a hand down his face. What am I doing? All of my training, gone. Because of one girl? He continues to rant inwardly against himself until he falls completely asleep.  
He shivers some, and in the back of his mind, he wonders about Nat. Where is she? Did she make it into SHIELD? Is she okay?

          He snaps awake to the sound of thunder and jerks upright. He looks around and sees a swirling tornado of dust. Auroras my eye! Clint gapes as a shock-wave of dirt rushes towards town. _Darcy! What have you gotten into?_

          He's running for his rented motorcycle before he has time to think. _Those crazy scientists. Correction, MAD scientists._

          By the time he gets to the impact zone, there's an unconscious guy with really long hair, twitching.

          He stays out of sight, but he thinks Darcy sees him anyway. Well, not him, but a shadow that gives her a frightened look. She reels her taser and walks towards him.

          “Darcy, what are you doing!?”

          “Jane, stay put.” she puts a hand back and approaches Clint's hiding spot.

          He looks into her eyes in the dark and doesn't have the chance to say a word before two sparking prongs plant themselves in his chest. He grabs them after collapsing, wheezing and gasping, and pulls them out.

          “D...Darcy.” he stutters.

          “Oh, my gosh! Cli...Mark!”

          He shudders and struggles to pull in air. She kneels next to him and helps him sit up to help him breathe. He's laughing, sort of.

**Darcy POV**

          “Why are you laughing?!” she demands. “There is nothing funny about me tasering my date.”

          “To... Told you my n..name was Cl.... Climark.”

          She can't help but laugh. “Okay, Climark. You mind telling me what you're out here for?”

          “S..Saw the tornado. C...Came t..to help.” he twitches and winces.  
“You should have said something, not hidden in the shadows like a creep waiting to jump me.” she growls. “I most likely wouldn't have tased you.”

          “Mos..s..st likely.” he sort of laughs again. “Rea...assuring.” .

          “Idiot.”

          After a few minutes of sitting there, he seems to have recovered. He's breathing okay, but he's kind of dozing off.

          “Hey, Climark, you have to get up.”

          “Pick one, pleas..se”

          She smirks. He's still got a little stutter in him. “I'll stick with Clint, but around SHIELD, I suppose I'll keep your cover.”

          Jane finds her still on the ground. “Is he going to live?”

          “Just give me another couple of minutes. Take crazy dude to the hospital.”

          “Darcy, I'm not leaving you alone...”

          “I'm not alone.” she grabs Clint's short hair and steers his head to look at Jane. “I've got him.” she smiles.

          “Darc...”

          “No. No buts. You get him taken care of, I'll take care of this.”

          Jane frowns, but does as she says. She drives back towards town and leaves Darcy with Clint.

          Clint releases a struggling exhale and she turns back to him. “You are the biggest idiot. You are literally the worst spy ever. You blew your cover, and you got taken down by me.”

          “You underestimate your.. yourself.”

          “No, you did. I know exactly what I'm capable of.” she snarks.

          Clint attempts to get up off the ground and Darcy helps him the whole way. His breath catches in his throat as he comes up taller than her and looks down, almost brushing his lips on her nose.

          Darcy tries to pretend not to notice. “I'm serious, Clint. You must have a death wish. Always letting me take you by surprise.”

          “I don't think I let you do anything.” he says, leaning on her while directing them to his bike.

          “I suppose that's true. I'm driving by the way.”

          “You know how to ride a m..mmotorcycle?”

          “Oh, please. I grew up riding Cap's old bike. I think I can handle this one.”

          “Cap's?” Clint answers. “Who's Cap?”

          “He's like my uncle, who is a sore subject, but he left his motorcycle behind when he disappeared.”

          “Is Cap his real name?”

          “Of course not. But I'm not giving you the whole story, seeing as you are an assassin an' all that.” she snickers.

          “So now you play the withholding information card?”

          “Yep. I've technically told you all you need to know for you to trust that I know what I'm doing.”

          Clint sighs and Darcy looks him in the eye.

          “Have you told me all your secrets yet?” she asks innocently.

          “Not even close.”

          “Then fair is fair.” she hops on the bike and kick starts it.

          “You know there's a key, right?”

          “Keys are for wimps who want to recharge their batteries every three seconds. Don't even ask about key start bikes.”

          Clint chuckles and gets on behind her. “I s..suppose.”

          She laughs before taking off towards town. Clint kind of glares at the back of her head as she lets her hair fly into his face. He closes his eyes as a belated shudder rolls through him, causing his breathing to turn back to a wheeze momentarily.

          “You okay?” she asks, slowing down a little.

          “I'll live.”

          “I hope so. You still owe me a date.”

          He seems to regress a little bit and Darcy reaches a hand back to steady him as his grip loosens. She can hear him taking slow breaths to try to ease it, but it's not working all too well.

          They hit town and Darcy goes directly to the lab. She helps him off the bike when they reach it and puts her hand on his bare arm. She decidedly does not notice the cording of muscle and instead notices the frigid temperature of his skin.

          “What are you doing out without sleeves in the desert at night?” she asks.

          “I was s..sleepin' when I woke up to the storm.”

          She helps him inside and sits him down on the couch. She runs to get him a glass of water and ends up coming back with a borrowed jar of her dad's Scotch too. _Oh, Tony._ She muses. _You only wish I hadn't discovered your hidey-hole. Not that you know._

          She tells him to drink the water first then runs off to find an ice pack for his chest. She wraps it in a towel and heads back out to him. Clint looks up at her worried expression and smiles.

          “I'll be okay.” he huffs, but it turns fluttery at the end.

          Without asking, she pulls his shirt up to looks at the taser burns. His hands are quick to stop that, though.

          “Whoa. Buy me dinner first.” he smirks.

          “I'm just trying to help, jackass.” Darcy removes his hand from hers and finishes her mission.

          Clint laughs and Darcy's heart does a little flip. She winces as she sees the prong marks with red inflamed skin all around them. No wonder he's having a hard time breathing.

          He winces as she puts the ice pack down.

          “Don't move this for another ten minutes, I'll be back with donuts. Any requests?”

          Clint shakes his head. “All donuts are good.”

          She giggles. “I think you might just be my favorite, dude. Besides Jane, of course.”

          She heads out the door after grabbing her jacket. It's just a hoodie, but she's worn it forever. Tony always says it looks a little ratty, but she tells him it gives it that warm worn look. She glances back at Clint on the couch before she gets too far and sees him struggle to pull in a breath.

          Not her worst first date, but far from her best. Well, that probably was, sadly, her best. She goes to the best place for donuts she knows in town and buys a baker’s dozen. If Jane sees them, she won’t care how many there are, she’ll just eat them and still weigh 90 pounds.

          Darcy rubs her arms at the morning chill and strides into the bakery. She grabs a box and turns towards the donuts side. She spies the last Danish for the hour and lets it sit. She grabs a couple of chocolate covered, a glazed, a caramel filled and cream filled, honey-covered, and a bear claw. Selvig likes those. She’s about to reach for another when the fresh Danish ones come out and six people walk in. She skips on over to them and pulls three for her box. She counts up her load.

          Three more to go.

          She grabs two more chocolate covered, fresh off the new sheet, and grabs a chocolate covered sprinkle. She likes chocolate a little. She pays for her dozen while inhaling the scent of beautiful baked bread and sweet syrups.

          She kind of has to remind herself of her obligations to get herself to leave. Walking out the door, she decides that while the warm stuffy scent of baked bread is good, smelling it wafting outside in the open air is better.

          As she walks straight back down the street, she looks up and sees a guy on the roof. She knows that’s not Clint. No way. Completely different silhouette, considering that’s how she caught him in the first place. SHIELD and their jack-booted thugs.

          Then he calls down for her. “Ms. Lewis!”

          “What do you want?” she glares up at him.

          “Where is Agent Chanceler?”

          “How should I know? He probably went for tacos or something!” she shouts up.

          “If you’re lying…”

          “Oh, please. If I was going to keep track of someone, it would not be one of SHIELD’s lackeys. That’s what I have Jane for.”

          “No need to get snappy, Lewis.” The man snarks.

          She huffs and keeps walking. If he was a good agent, he’d know where Mark was. She resituates her box of goodness under her arm and opens the door as quietly as possible, seeing Clint asleep. He’s still got the ice pack on his chest, so Darcy takes her opportunity and removes it. He doesn’t really move, but she knows he’s only about half-asleep. She tip-toes around him and closes the door to the kitchen, putting her donuts on the table and the ice pack in the sink. She heads back out to the main room with her box in hand. She puts them down on the floor under the edge of the futon and then curls up in their spinny recliner. She wakes up about an hour later to Clint drooling on his shirt. She chuckles before waking him up and showing him her prize. He eyes the donuts warily before picking up a Danish.

          “Knew it!” she chants, and pumps a fist.

          “You were guessing what kind of donuts I like?”

          “No. I always get a variety otherwise Jane gets tired of it and it starts to taste like cardboard. I don’t have to guess, she just likes the carbs.”

          Clint sits up with a groan. “My mouth tastes like sandpaper.”

          “Kind of what happens when you deal with electricity. I’ll go get you some more water.”

          “Darcy, wait.”

          She pauses, raising an eyebrow.

          “Why are you doing this?”

          “Because….” Her eyes widen as Jane walks in the door with Crazy Dude. “Jane, you brought him home with you?”

          Jane glares. “Darcy, you brought yours.”

          “Mine is sane!” she exclaims.

          “I’m right here.” Clint says.

          “Who cares if yours is sane? Mine has answers.”

          “Because that way….”

          “Ladies, please. Darcy, you have felled the mighty Thor with lightning. I will always know you as my shield sister.”

          Jane hisses. “You be quiet.” She clamps a hand over his mouth. “You’re not helping your case.”

          Darcy looks at Clint. “See what I mean? I mean, you can see why I tased him, right?”

          Clint huffs. “I’m not here, remember?”

          “That is so not fair.” She crosses her arms.

          “She has a point though, Jane.” He looks up at Thor and stands.

          He doesn’t think Thor notices, or Jane either, but Clint has angled himself between Thor and Darcy. If Darcy notices, she doesn't say anything.

          Darcy stands up and stands in front of Clint, putting an arm in front of his chest. She's not sure if she's restraining him or protecting him. Either way works for her. He has a really firm chest.

          He hisses and she eases her arm away from him. “Promise to be good?”

          Clint looks at Thor, then to Darcy. “Fine.”

          “What is your name?” Thor asks.

          “Mark.” he lies.

           When he's not looking at her, she can tell he's rehearsed this. He keeps all emotion off his face, and keeps all gestures which point to lying curbed.

          Thor chuckles. “And how did you come to be here?”

          Clint backs up a step as Thor moves forwards to clasp his arm.

          “It was not my intention to frighten you.” Thor apologizes.

          “I'm not afraid of you.” Clint hisses. “She tased me. Like she did you.”

          “Aye. A valiant warrior in her soul.”

          Darcy watches his eyes flick to her and she shrugs. “Not a bad compliment.”

          Clint hadn't noticed in the heat of the moment, but his chest was getting tight. It was a little hard to breathe.

          Darcy notices for him. “Mark, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

          Clint jerks at the name 'Mark' coming from her and sits down. Darcy makes a mental note that Clint and electricity don't mix. He pulls a chocolate covered donut from the box and munches it slowly.

          Darcy goes around the back of the couch and gently knocks on the side of his head. “Knock knock.”

          “What?” Clint asks, distracted.

          Darcy frowns. He sounds frustrated.

          “Jane.” Darcy says.

          “Yeah?”

          “Take your guy and get him some human clothes. I'll stay out here with Mark.”

          Jane pulls Thor by the arm into the other side of the building. Clint lies down and Darcy fetches an ice pack for him.

          “Gopher.” Darcy says.

          “......What?”

          “Go fer this, go fer that.”

          He laughs as she's lifting up his shirt and he doesn't grab her wrists this time.

          “No complaints?” she asks.

          He points to the donuts. “That looks like dinner to me.”

          She giggles. “There is no way that donuts are real dinner to you. I mean, have you seen yourself in a mirror?”

          Considering every time she puts an ice pack on his chest, those abs are against her arm. She knows he's chiseled.

          Clint huffs. “It's called working out with my partner and my handler.”

          “You have a handler?”

          “Who is my partner, who has a handler, who I train with.”

          “Your partner is your handler?”

          “She brought me in. She's the reason I joined.” He gets a little glossed, as if thinking back. “She was sent to kill me.”

          Darcy smiles. “Must have been your dazzling personality.”

          She can see Clint watching her lips as she smiles. She may or may not have pursed them a little when she noticed.

          “Besides. I need the carbs.”

          “Does SHIELD not feed their agents?” she smirks.

          “I'm....”

          “I know, not SHIELD, but you broke in. That means they know you're there, so do they send like little care packages, like in the Hunger Games or something?”

          Clint frowns. “The Hunger Games?”

          Darcy blows past him. “Wow, you are uneducated in movies. Did they keep you locked in a bedroom?”

          Clint frowns harder.

          “Wow, touchy subject. Is your handler's handler mean?”

          “He takes some getting used to. And I'm difficult with him. I'd get unruly and he'd confine me to quarters, handcuffing me to the bed.”

          “Kinky.” Darcy giggles. “Sorry. I shouldn't laugh. But you're a spy. Couldn't you pick the lock or something?”

          “Not with both hands cuffs and my feet tied down. My handler would always tell me she'd had worse, and that I probably deserved it. She was right.”

          Darcy puts a hand on his shoulder. “What did you do?”

          “I was mad at him, so I took the firing pin out of his rifle before I knew he had a mission the next morning. He had to get to ground level to finish the job.”

          “Makes you sound like a teenager.”

          Clint laughs, albeit a little dryly. “I was barely twenty.”

          Darcy tells him to sit up and he does as she asks.

          “What?” he says.

          She hugs him. He stiffens until he's straight in the back then sinks into her embrace. She's very sad to realize that this man is touch deprived. She kisses his cheek.

          “Clint.”

          “What?”

          “Do you want to go get breakfast?”

          “What time is it?”

          “Really close to morning.” Darcy answers, standing back up to walk into the kitchen. Clint stands again and follows her. She's filling a glass of water and she presses it into his hands. He downs it and Darcy smiles.

          “Just let me grab my scarf.” she pushes away from his side and he puts the glass in the sink. He heads back out to the main room and waits for her. She comes back out a minute or two later with her purse and a new outfit, the previously mentioned scarf around her neck still fitting perfectly with her new dress. She wraps her arm through his and it take shim a second to catch up as she walks towards the door.

          Jane's boots click against the floor. “Where are you two going ?”

          “Breakfast.” Darcy answers, still walking. “We're going to go get some real food.”

          Jane shrugs. “I'm taking my guy to the diner, so, have fun.”

          “You taking Selvig? I doubt he's had his coffee yet.”

          “Yeah, that might actually be a good plan.” she glances around. “ERIC!”

          Darcy rolls her eyes. “Take pictures if he does anything cute.”

          Jane nods and runs off to Eric's room to drag him out of bed. “Oh! By the way, he ate all your poptarts!”

          Darcy growls. She resolutely turns around and doesn't say anything as she marches Clint out the door and into the morning chill. She shivers and he takes his arm from her, bringing her shoulders in underneath his arm. He's warm. Darcy wraps an arm around him. He's warm on the other side too. Darcy snuggles into his side and he stiffens again, making her sad all over.

          She steers him gently down the street and into the local breakfast place. She lets him order what he wants, which is lots of pancakes, and she orders an egg in a frame. Darcy watches with mild interest as Clint makes shapes with the syrup on his pancakes.

          Jane calls her after when they finish. “Hey, I need you to come to the diner.”

          “Why?”

          “Thor is trying to leave.”

          “So? Let him.”

          “No. He promised me answers if I drive him out to the site of a satellite crash.”

          “Jane, just keep him there, we'll be there soon.”

          Darcy hangs up and grabs Clint's arm. Clint doesn't resist her and he chases her out of the diner. She sprints in three inch heels like she was born too and Clint catches up to her easily. She notices his long strides in her peripheral vision and almost trips at the smile gracing his features.

          They reach the diner to Jane talking to Thor out front.

          “....can give you the answers you seek, just take me there.”

          “Jane!” Darcy calls.

          Jane turns and sees Clint with her.

          “Eric won't let me drive him out to the crater site, so he wants to go by himself.”

          Thor turns to them. “I'm sorry, but if you won't help me, this is where we part ways.”

          Jane curls her hair behind her ear. “Okay. Sorry we couldn't help.”

          Oh gosh. Of course Jane would fall for the Crazy Alien.

          “Jane Foster, Eric Selvig, Darcy....” he pauses. “I do not believe we have properly met. I believe Darcy called you Mark?”

          “Yeah, SHIELD lackey at your service.” he chuckles nervously.

          “Surely someone of your caliber would not consider themselves a mere servant.” Thor tilts his head.

          Clint avoids the subject and wishes him farewell.

          Darcy clings to his arm as Jane walks away. He gently steers her to follow and gasps as a tow truck pulls away with all of their stuff.

          Jane breaks into a run and Darcy sprints away from him. Darcy doesn't notice him take to the rooftops as she goes to yell at SHIELD. She pulls out her phone and dials rapidly.

          “Dad, SHIELD is in New Mexico, and they're taking all of our research!”

          “WHAT! Why are they there?”

          “They caught wind of what Jane and I found, and they're just taking it!”

          “I know a guy. Just make a big fuss and request Agent Coulson.”

          “COULSON! ARE YOU SERIOUS! THAT ASPIRING SAINT!!!!” she growls sarcastically.

          “Darce, please be reasonable. He may act like a jerk-off, but he isn't that bad. I... I want you to tell him.”

          “YOU WHAT!!!!!!” she pipes down, taking a seriously needed calming breath. “I can't tell him that.” she whispers.

          “What, that you're my daughter and I love you? And that he's going to give your research back or I'm going to kick his ass.”

          “Dad, I can't. You call him and do it, because I don't feel comfortable telling someone I've barely met except when you told me and he's taking my stuff!”

          “How important is this 'stuff' that you're talking about?”

          “It's all of Jane's research. All of my research.”

          “How important is this research?”

          “Dad! I am not going to let my friend just lose it all. You tell that dick-head Coulson to give my stuff back, or I'm going to break in and use my awesome skills to break everything.”

          “Need I remind you that you started practicing when you were little, on my office? Must you destroy to get what you want?”

          “I'm serious. Help me, or I'll be extremely pissed and probably shoot someone.”

          “Darce, you are my daughter. I'm not going to do anything that will endanger your life. That includes letting you break into Agent's office.”

          She sighs, feeling a little helpless. “Dad, please.” she looks up and gives the sky puppy eyes.

          She hears Jarvis in the background. 'Sir, I believe she is giving you the look.'

          “Dang-it Darcy. I thought we were playing fair. Why is it that all I have to do is imagine the sadness on your face?”

          “Because you love me?”

          “FINE! I'll call Coulson and tell him to get his sorry ass movin'” he pauses. “J, call Coulson.”

          “Dad, if make Jarvis tell Coulson, so help me....”

          “I just said call him, I didn't say to tell him anything.” his voice turns petulant, not unlike a whiny child.

          “Take care of yourself, Dad.”

          “Yeah, I'm working on a fix for my arc reactor, so if you don't hear from me soon, I'm probably... well, I'll call. Be careful.”

          “Love you, Dad.”

          “Love you too, Darcy.”

          She sighs, righting her scarf. Time to go pitch a fit as Coulson gets a very important call.

**Clint POV**

          Clint sits in a corner up on his designated roof. He's going to have to leave, and that means leaving Darcy behind. He hadn't planned on getting attached, or on blowing his cover so easily. Darcy had surprised him, a few times.

          His SHIELD phone rings.

          “Chanceler.” he answers.

          “We need you back at base.” Coulson says. “I have a feeling that something is about to go wrong.” Coulson is about to say something else when he huffs a breath. “I have another call, just get here. We need eyes on.”

          Barton hurries it over, still wondering what to do. He should say goodbye before he goes, at least. He makes it to the base and finds the goon with his gun. Coulson is with him, giving him instructions to find Clint. Well, Mark anyway.

          “Coulson?” Clint asks.

          “Mark. The hammer is throwing off more and more radiation. Something is going to happen, and soon.”

          Then the alarm goes off. The goon jumps, but Coulson is passive as ever. Does he react to anything?

          “Looks like we need your assistance, Mr. Chanceler. Hope you know how to use that.” Coulson says. “Oh, and after this, go back to surveillance on Ms. Foster.” he walks off.

          The small soldier practically throws the gun into his hands and darts away. Clint rushes up to the perch to get a good look and makes it seem as if he's doing his job. Whoever is intruding takes out the pros. He wonders if for a moment the 'man' he's now seeing is actually an it. He's ripping through the heavy ranks like nothing.

          “Your men better know what they're doing, Coulson. I'm starting to root for this guy.” In truth, he already was. He wanted whoever this was to win. He didn't really know why. It wouldn't help or harm his operation in any way, but maybe now he just likes to be able to watch the action. For once.

          “Target subdued.” he hears after another moment.

          Weird. Wonder what they could have on hand right now that would take out a man like that. Clint really hopes Natasha was able to hack SHIELD through Stark Industries. After Clint had gotten off the jet, they had taken off and placed Nat in Malibu where she could try to get Clint's fake name into the SHIELD database.

          Nat sends him the green light to let him know she got him in.  _Better late than never._  
-  
_**I got your name into the database, but we need Stark for something.**_

_What could we possibly need him for?_

_**A man named I van Vanko wants him dead and I've got to keep Stark alive long enough to beat Vanko and get Pepper out safely.** _

_Pepper? Are you friends with this woman?_

_**No, but she's going to keep Stark focused. Stark is dying.** _

_What?!_

_**He has to poison himself to keep himself alive and Fury told him that there was another way. I went to Fury with a 'business proposition' and he accepted. When I told him I knew how to at least prevent the side effects, he gladly took my help. He wants Stark for something bigger, I just want to see about his tech. I can snoop around now that I've done what needed to be done to get your name into the SHIELD database.** _

_What if someone catches you?_

_**I know what I'm doing, Barton. After this is done, I'll disappear.** _

          _Good. Don't take any stupid chances._

          _ **I'll be out before you know it. Later Clint.**_

_Yeah, later._

-

          Clint frowns. That story sounds eerily familiar, but he's not able to place it. He high-tails it back over to the little town.

          He puts his phone in his pocket. Clint sneaks his way up to the roof of the building across the street from what used to be the mini scientist's lab. He pulls out his rifle with its no-glare coating and watches carefully. The old man, Selvig, is running around and the girls are making an ID for the man that they caught earlier tonight. He chuckles. The girls are going to break him out. Clever. Selvig takes off in the direction of the compound, but Clint stays and watches what the girls do.

          The old man comes back about an hour later and he has the man with him.

          _Crap. That's that Thor dude._

          They go to the bar nearest to the trailer and come out drunk and singing a strange song about two hours later, nearly morning. Clint watches Darcy, if he's reading the mini scientist's lips correctly, they are shutting down what's left of their tech for the night. Jane and Selvig turn in for the night. Clint takes a short 30 minute nap and goes back to watching. Though there's not much to see. Except Darcy, of course.

          Suddenly a blanket lands on his head and he thrashes in surprise. “I have a couch, if you'd rather sleep on that.”

          “I'm supposed to be watching you guys for SHIELD.”

          “What for this time?”

          “To protect you.”

          “Uh, huh.” she smirks.

          **Natasha's POV**

          Fury had jumped at the possibility to keep the side effects of Stark's illness at bay. Though he did a thorough background check on the SHIELD servers (which may a may not have her information that she planted in them) and agreed to let her help. He put her back in as his inside woman and she was there to protect Stark. She wasn't his agent, but she wanted to get to his tech. When she tried JARVIS would always warn her away from areas she couldn't go. The AI creeps her out.

          She's just about to walk into the expo when she sees a shadow move near the corner of the building. She moves towards it, telling Pepper she'll be back in a minute. She walks to where she thinks she saw the shadow and feels something wrong. She can sense something behind her and grabs the hand reaching for her mouth. The hand is very, very cold.

          It's James.

          “What are you doing here?!” she whispers loudly.

          “I'm keeping an eye on you. Something is wrong.”

          “How could you possibly know that?” Natasha tries to pull slightly away, but James grabs her arms.

          “Natalia, it's not that I don't trust your judgment. I don't trust other people, and with Clint out in New Mexico there's no one here to help you.”

          “I can handle myself.” Natalia wrenches her arms out of his grasp.

          “Natalia, please listen to me.”

          “I did listen. I can handle this James. I promise.” Natalia puts a hand out to his cheek and he leans into it, if only for a moment.

          “I trust you little widow. Just please be careful.”

          “Always. Now go do whatever you were doing.”

          “I was busy, yes. I'll go.”

          Natalia goes back around to the front of the building and goes and sits next to Pepper in their designated seats.

          Justin Hammer comes out onto the stage and does an awkward little dance to sax music by himself. He presents his army of robots with over exaggerated music and effects. Then Tony shows up. By this time Clint should have already been able to get a read on whatever it is SHIELD was staring at and pulled himself out of the desert to come pick her up.

          Six hour flight. Should be long enough for her to wrap this up.

          Hammer's drones malfunction suddenly, Rhodey taking aim on Stark. _Idiot. Shouldn't have taken the suit from Tony in the first place._ It never would have come to this if Rhodes hadn't given that suit to the Air Force to weaponize. _Complete and utter idiots_. She rushes to Hammer tech, finding it in shambles with multiple guards, all of which she handles in the span of time that it takes Happy (Stark's bodyguard) to take out one. A grand total of eight.

          _Oy._

          She hears him shout that he got his guy and smiles at the silence after the statement, him seeing her work. Of course, Fury will never know that it was her, she'll be gone before he can do a follow-up. Natasha talks to Stark and gets a reading on his condition from JARVIS.

          “Your vitals are significantly better.”

          “Yes, I am officially not dying.”

          Tony and Pepper fight for a few moments over him not telling her he was dying and Natalia grins, tilting her head.  
Natalia had only been in the mainframe of Stark Enterprises long enough to put her and Clint's identities in SHIELD.

          JARVIS was keeping a close watch over everything after that small breach.

          If Natalia was perfectly honest, which she almost never was with anyone but James, she liked Pepper Potts. Natalia rushed out of the building and saw the jets of Tony's boots in the distance. She ran to the car where Happy was waiting for her.

          “Take me to Pepper.”

          “She can handle herself, she's been through....”

          “Take. Me. To. Pepper.” Natalia gets in the back and Happy drives her back to the expo where she finds Pepper yelling at all her guys.

          “Pepper, we have to go!” Natalia grabs her wrist and Pepper runs with her. When they get out of the building, she sees a black shadow sprinting along the tree line, straight for her.

          “Get out of the area!” she tell Pepper.

          “Why?”

          “All the armor has a self-destruct sequence in it. Tony doesn't know yet. Just get out. A jet flies in overhead and Pepper runs to the car where Happy is ushering her in.

          “Go!”

          Happy nods and peels back towards Stark's mansion. Multiple robots begin to blink with red around her. She's surrounded. Natalia runs towards the shadow that's still coming towards her and the tips of his fingers show in a spot of light. Metal.

          “James!” She shouts.

          She sees his eyes. He's not James anymore. He's the Winter Soldier. He tackles her and she groans, heaving him off with her knees. She flips up to her feet and turns to see him pull a knife. Just as he charges, everything explodes and something rams into her side. She can feel the heat of the explosions and she looked down to see James blown away into the trees again.

          “James!” she screams.

          She pushes against Stark's heavy armor, trying to get away from him.

          “If you keep struggling, I'm going to drop you, and you will die! Calm down!”

          “Mister Stark, put me down, right now!”

          He lands them on top of a building, away from the explosions. “Where's Pepper?” he pries his mask off.

          “She's with Happy, she's safe.”

          “Good. Who was that guy?” he points back to where he saw James.

          “He's an old friend.”

          “Friend, huh? Looked to me like he was trying to kill you.”

          “It was a misunderstanding.”

          “And that's why he was about to stab you?”

          “Mr. Stark, I really don't think it's any of your business.”

          Stark straightens. “Fine. I'm going to find Rhodey, then I'm going home. What are you gonna do?”

          A line drops right next to her and she grabs on. “That's my ride.” It reels her up into the jet, which is currently in stealth mode. She closes the hatch and calls up to Clint. “James is here, we need to find him!”

          “Where?” Clint calls back.

          Natalia comes up front and points to the tree line. “He's over there somewhere.”

          “Okay.” Clint lands behind the trees and Natalia is first out of the jet. “Nat! Why was he here?”

          Natalia stops. “He knew something was up.”

          Clint comes around her front. “What happened?”

          “He left, but then when everything went down the drain, I saw him running towards me. But he wasn't himself.”

          “Oh.” Clint nods in understanding. “Well, let’s find him.”

          Natalia nods and darts off into the trees. She finds where he tried to kill her on the other side, and goes in the direction that he was blown away. He's lying in the grass, unconscious.

          “James.” she kneels next to him.

          He groans at her touch and she looks him over. His leather is ripped in a couple of places, and there's a slight burn on his face. Other than that, he seems okay.

          “Let’s get him on board, we'll worry about the rest later.” Clint points to the flashing lights in the distance.

          Clint hoists James up over his shoulder and moves as fast as he can. “Man, he's heavy.” Natalia helps Clint get him strapped in then he takes off towards the controls.

          Natalia sits back with James for a little while, then she moves up to the copilot's seat.

          “How is he?” Clint asks.

          “He'll be okay.”

          “Natalia.”

          Natalia is up in a seconds and is by James' side as he comes to. “James, are you alright?”

          He blinks for a few moments. “Are you? Did I hurt anyone?”

          “No. I'm okay.”

          “Where am I?” he glances around.

          “You're in the jet with me and Clint on our way back to Russia.”

          “Natalia, something is wrong in the KGB. I have this feeling that it's all going to go bad.” he says, speaking English.

          He almost never speaks with her about important things in front of Clint, because he'll worry too much.

          “But what about you?” Natalia asks.

          “You and Clint, come with me. Instead of going back to Russia.”

          “What happens to us if we do?” Clint calls back.

          “We'll be hunted, but we can protect ourselves.”

          “Sure, for a while. But what happens when they send an army after us?”

          “They don't have the resources with SHIELD on their backs all the time to send one.” James groans and pulls himself upright on the makeshift cot.

          Clint chuckles. “Where to?”

          James' eyes turn a little sad. “New York.”

          Clint busts out laughing. “Are you serious? We are KGB agents and you want us to just walk up to America's front door and knock?”

          “Yeah, I do. I have a friend there who does ID's and everything we need.”

          “Okay.” Clint shrugs. He punches in a course for New York and the jet whirs into action. Clint lifts off and settles in for a long ride, switching on the autopilot. “You better be right Ghost. We're giving up everything.”

          “Don't worry Clint. They won't look for us.” James stands on steady feet and moves up to the copilot's seat and sits down. Natalia sits on the arm of the chair and puts her arm around James' shoulder.

          “We'll be okay, Clint. We'll most likely be presumed dead anyway.”

          “They'll send someone else.” Clint says.

          “No, they got what they wanted, which was intel. They'll hear about the explosions and think you two were killed in them somewhere. Me, not so much. They'll wonder and track me down, find you with me and report back that we've gone rogue.”

          “Which is why we kill them when they come.” Natalia responds.

          “Exactly.”

          **Two weeks later, New York City. Clint's POV**

          “Run, you two! Get out of here!” Ghost shouts.

          “Ghost! What are you going to do?”

          “Just go! I'll catch up with you! You know where. Now go!”

          James growls and pulls his gun from his holster, popping two men in the head. He takes another guy's gun and knocks him in the head with it, then firing at oncoming guys. Clint watches for another moment before grabbing Natalia. She pulls her arm from his grasp and moves to help him.

          “You'll never survive this many on your own!” she shouts back.

          “Natalia, I order you to go!”

          “No! Clint, help me out here!”

          Clint jumps into the fray after a moment of hesitation. “You know that she's right!”

          Natalia snaps a man's neck and another girl's too. She grabs the woman's gun and uses it with a vengeance.

          “And I know how this is going to end! Now go!”

          Natalia looks back at Clint and nods. Clint cracks James over the head and they put a claymore near the door for anyone who comes in in their moment of calm. They get James to the roof where they strap him in and take off. Natalia goes back to check his head and finds no major injury. He'd been expecting something to happen, but Natalia didn't quite know what it was. Clint on the other hand was pretty sure he knew what Ghost was expecting. To lose it all.  
He'd fought with them, and Natalia had kept him going for a while, but he knew something was going on. Clint opens up Natalia's box and digs out her jerky.

          “Clint, you eat it all, you're buying the next bag.”

          “Ha! As if.”

          Natalia glances at him over her shoulder.

          “Fine.”

          “Just shut up and keep an eye out.” Natalia grumbles.

          After a few moments, Clint speaks quietly. “What if this was a mistake?”

          Natalia blinks. “What?”

          “Running with Ghost. All it's brought us is trouble.”

          Natalia storms up to the cockpit. “Are you having second thoughts?” she says, dangerous.

          “No, I'm just... How long can we keep running before they get to him?”

          Long enough. That's what he was hoping she'd say. “I don't know.”  
  
          **Darcy's POV**

          Darcy knew that Clint would have to leave. That didn't stop her form moping when he wasn't stalking them the next morning from the rooftop. She did note that he left all of his gear and her blanket. She picks it up and presses her nose into it. It has a scent that is distinctly male.

          She sees a hoodie strung on the edge of his chair and a note in the bottom of the seat. She picks both up and reads the note. She had kind of expected chicken scratch to be honest.

 _Darcy, I need you to know that I didn't want to leave. I f I could stick around, I would. But my partner needs me, and I can't let her die because I was selfish. Maybe I'm still being selfish, leaving you alone out there and sparing myself heartbreak. I wish I could have finished breakfast with you. I'll never forget the girl who tased me because I snuck up on her. And I'll never forget your smile and how that warmed me to the core. I want to... I want to go out to dinner with you someday. I'm going to be your perfect gentleman when I do. Don't hate me for leaving without saying goodbye._  
_Clint._

          Darcy forgets how to breathe. She tears up right before pulling out her phone and asking Jarvis to find him. He claims he has no idea where Mr. Barton went, but he does have the cell number of his phone.

          She sends him emails, so she doesn't distract him from whatever he's out there doing.

              _I found you, ha ha, sort of. I have to say, I kind of miss you already. I wish we could have finished breakfast too.         Darcy._

          She finishes her internship almost a month after the Thor disaster. And goes home to her dad. Tony is a little wound up, but he's alive. Darcy throws her arms around him when she sprints in the front door.

          “Dad. Did you tell Coulson?”

          “Obviously not. If I'm going to tell Agent anything, I need to be there to see his face.”

          She squeezes him as hard as she can. “I'm glad you're not dead.”

          “Ohhh.” he squeezes her back. “I'm glad you're not dead, too Darce. I've missed you.”

          She pulls away and looks around his Malibu house. She gives DUM-E a pat as she heads down to the garage. Darcy can't help but coo at her car. She built it herself, with schematics from Jarvis, of course.

          It's still gorgeous as ever. It's a blue 1974, Challenger RT.

          It makes her drool more than boys. Well, maybe not Clint. She pulls out her phone and shoots him another message.  
              _I'm drooling over my car. She attaches a picture. Be jealous. :)._

          It makes her smile and want to cry at the same time. It is just so beautiful. Darcy sighs and leans on the hood like a model for Cover Girl. Well, except more.... covered. Tony tells her to get off the hood and drive the dang thing. She shakes her head with a sigh. She's never actually taken it out for a ride. Darcy knows that it's a crying shame for it to not get used, but it scares Tony. Jarvis calculated the amount of power under the hood and Tony declared that he didn't want her to drive it until she was at least 18.

          Well, now she's 23 and still is cowed by the beast.

          “Come on, Darce. Let's take it to the drags.” Tony opens the door without so much as a sound and swings into the soft seats.

          Darcy can't say that she isn't tempted. She is very much tempted.

          _Ah, what the heck._ Not like she can't rebuild it if she crashes. Darcy starts it up and listens to the motor purr, like a very, very large kitten. Tony must start it up from time to time, otherwise it would need to turn over a couple more times.

          Darcy eases into the clutch and the car doesn't move. _Yay Tony, and his uber flat surfaces._ She shifts into first and pulls her foot from the clutch until she feels the engine start to pull. She lets it move forwards before pressing onto the gas pedal with her hightops. As long as she doesn't twitch, it shouldn't speed away.

          She shifts up into second, and then third, taking the car out of the tunnel leading up to the penthouse. Darcy feels like she's floating with how easily the car handles. She almost can't believe it as the mileage gauge hits one. Well, technically 4,001, with all the testing miles that Jarvis out on it.

          Darcy is shocked. Tony never met a piece of tech he didn't like, and this was one he liked a lot. Darcy's heart warms a little more. Her dad won't touch her stuff while she's away. She didn't think Tony was serious about the drags until he told her to take an exit.

          She narrows her eyes as they approach the strip. She knows this place.

          “I used to bring you here, when you were little.” Tony sighs, sounding content.

          “I remember.” she whispers.

          Tony would never race, just in case he'd ever crash and leave Darcy alone. Now she's grown up and she gets to race. Tony is staying in the car for this.

          Suffice it to say, Darcy wins all of her races. Tony almost flipped his lid when the torque twisted the chassis off the line the first time, but Darcy held her steady.

          Darcy comes home with a proud 60 miles on her gauge when they get home.


	3. Well, that was Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Budapest.

          “You know, when we first went on the run, I thought you were crazy Ghost.”

          “I'm starting to remember some things, and the KGB is wrong.”

          “And you're saying SHIELD is right?” Clint growls.

          “No. I don't think SHIELD is right either.”

          “Have you told Natalia any of this?”

          “No. She grew up in the KGB. She survived there because I was teaching her to do what the KGB wanted.”

          “You’re afraid she wouldn't believe you.”

          “She'd believe me, but she might go back.”

          “She can't go back now! They'd kill her for being off the grid for so long.”

          “That is why we can't tell her. If there's even the slightest chance that she will go back, then I'm not going to tell her something she doesn't want to hear.”

          Clint huffs and then pulls himself onto the windowsill of their safe house. It was nearby to a museum that Natalia had wanted to go to for research purposes, but Ghost had said no. At least until he could stake it out himself.

          Natalia walks in the door just as her phone rings. She picks it up. “Miss Romanoff...” is the greeting.

          “Fury. How did you get this number?”

          “I like to cover my bases.” Clint is about to laugh when Fury speaks again. “We have a job for you. And we know that your partner is Agent Chanceler. We want you both on this. You’re going to be put on a team with a few others.”

          “We don't work in groups.”

          “Make it work. You have five hours to meet us in the hellicarrier and get to know your team.”

          Clint can see the rage on Nat's face as she turns.

          “Nata....”

          “No, we each worked one mission for that man with discretion and now he thinks we're his lap dogs to be ordered around as his beck and call?” She hurls her phone out the window. Or would have, if Ghost hadn't gotten up and stopped her.

          “You should do it.”

          Natalia stares at him. “We should what?”

          “You should do it. It'll give you an up close and personal knowledge of the hellicarrier and the assets of SHIELD. You can observe.” Ghost speaks quietly, as to not anger her.

          Natalia is silent for a moment, that moment where Clint knows that she knows he's right but wants to rebel. With her being less experienced, and not the power partner in their relationship, she glances at Clint. Clint shrugs. He's willing to try it. It's a smart move.

          “We'll do it.” Natalia nods.

          Ghost sends them off after promising he'll try to stay out of trouble. Natalia has serious doubts about leaving him on his own. Clint has no such reservations. Ghost can handle himself, always has. They reach the hellicarrier within three hours, and Fury raises an impressed eyebrow.

          “How did you find us so fast?”

          “Cell trace put you smack in the middle of the Pacific. Unless you're on a boat, you would have to be in the air.” Clint says.

          His thumb runs along the line of his rifle case, which doubles as a case for his bow. His arrows are with it underneath the gun.

          “You'll be in Budapest...”

          “With me.”

          Clint looks over and sees a sight that makes him almost drop his case. “Laura Hill.” he says.

          She narrows her eyes. “We met?”

          “No, just heard a lot about you.”

          “Like?”

          “All good things.” Clint lies.

          She eyes him, then Natasha.

          “This is your team.”

          Natasha frowns. “You said a few others, not one.”

          “Is that a problem?” Fury asks. “Last I checked you liked to have as small a team as possible.”

          Natasha doesn't like that. She just prefers a team full of people she trusts. Or just Clint. Or just herself. Or herself, Clint, and Ghost.

          “No. It'll be fine.”

          “Good, Chanceler, you're taking point on this. Stay focused, and keep everyone alive.”

          He nods. Hill frowns at him and he asks what the mission is.

          “So, Budapest. You'll be bringing in a valued asset. He has information on where the KGB's new bunker is. Since we ruffled their feathers on the last two, I intend to show them that we're serious.”

          Natasha stays silent. Clint does too. It looks like....

          “Hill, you're in charge of giving them a tour of our boat. You have two hours.”

          Ghost was right. They would get insider information.

          **Eight hours later**

          Clint has been rambling non-stop about breakfast for the past four hours of their trip. Hill put in earplugs after the first three. Natasha has been listening to the comfortable hum of his voice. He sounds a little sad when he hits the pancake section.

          “Like, I literally had pancakes just the other morning in this little diner. It was the best. I didn't really get to finish them. I had them at a better place that I found last year, and they were so good. Huh, come to think of it, I didn't get to finish those either.”

          Natalia just listens, shaking her head at some points, smiling at others. She looks up as he goes silent. He's sitting on the bench, leaning against the wall of the quinjet. It always takes a lot for him to distract himself enough to sleep.

          Especially when there is someone they don't trust in the front seat.

          Natalia goes to sit next to him and he sinks closer to her shoulder every second. She sings under her breath while stroking Clint's hair. She catches Hill looking back at them once or twice, but after that she keeps her gaze forwards.

          It takes another four hours to actually get to Budapest. Natasha picks the safe-house and lets Agent Hill approve it.

          After doing so, they walk back to the quinjet and wake up Clint.

          **Clint's POV**

          After the girls left the quinjet, he got a phone call. He nearly jumped out of his socks, but managed not to drop the phone a third time before picking it up.

          “Yeah?”

          “Clint? It's Darcy.”

          “How in the world did you get this number?” Clint narrows his eyes, even though she can't see him.

          “I have cool resources. Just, hear me out?”

          “I... suppose.” Clint hesitates, not knowing when the girls will be back.

          “Okay, so my dad is being a total jerk. He's been in his lab for three days straight trying to cook up a.... a new project of sorts, and he won't come out. My.... brother J..Jim has been trying to get him to come out. What do I do? How do I distract him?”

          “Darcy.”

          “Right, sorry. I know that calling a KGB assassin probably isn't the best way to get advice, but I'm drawing a blank here. I've tried his favorite coffee three times, with four times the sugar, but he's ignoring it. He hasn't eaten all day and he has grease on his face that makes him look like he's straight out of _Braveheart_.”

          “Have you tried getting a pet? That might get his attention.”

          “What kind of pet are we talking here? Goldfish, something easy to feed? Tiny Deadpool on a leash that doesn't require feeding?”

          “Something more loud than that. And, what's a 'Deadpool'?”

          “How loud? He's listening to music like, all the time.”

          “Get a dog.”

          “Where am I going to get a dog? Do you know the requirements of a dog? Food, brushing, watering, poop scooping. I don't really think that'll work.”

          “Just, give me a few days." he sighs, then a thought occurs to him. "You know that it's been over a year already since we met?”

          “Huh. Did you know that I've sent you a million texts?”

          “Is that what all that mail on my phone is?”

          “Yep.” she answers cheerily, popping the 'p'.

          “Sorry, I've been a little busy.”

          Darcy pauses. “With?”

          “I'm not exactly KGB anymore.”

          “Whoa, wait! What about your handler? And your handler's handler?”

          “Same story. I'll tell you about it at around the same time I find a solution to your dad problem.” he pauses. “You know, you could tell him you were dying.”

          “He'd kill me for lying and then it wouldn't matter. My aunt is in China with new business deals cropping up in her wake like daisies, so she can't take care of him like usual.”

          “Yep, he needs a dog.”

          “Yeah, but it has to be, like, the perfect dog. I can't just expect him to take care of any old dog.” Darcy huffs. “It would be dead before it got home.”

          “As I said. Give me a couple of days.”

          “Okay, but you had better bring your solution with you. I'm going stir crazy over here trying to hook him up to an IV.”

          Clint laughs. “That bad?”

          “I told you. He hasn't been eating.”

          “Darcy, I'm actually in the middle of something here, so I have to let you go.” He sighs. “I'll meet you for pancakes?”

          “Sure. Call me when you hit New York.”

          “You moved?”

          “Well, yeah. That was only an internship. They don't last forever, you know.”

          Clint smiles. “No, I really don't. We had classes an' whatever in training, but we never had tryouts. It was do or die.”

          “Oh.” Darcy says. “Well, anyway, call me.” She doesn't seem deterred by any means.

          “Will do. See you soon, Darcy.”

          She hangs up with a chipper 'Goodbye!' and Clint sighs. Her dad sounds like a maniac, and a workaholic. He walks out of the hatch on the quinjet and inhales deeply. He sees Natalia coming and waves. Hill seems less enthused to see him, but Nat waves back. Clint leans against the support beam on the end and waits for them to approach.

          “We found a place.” Nat says.

          “How crappy is it?” Clint asks.

          Natalia laughs. She still sounds so weird with an American laugh. “Suitably.”

          Clint grabs his gun case and Natalia grabs her rifle. She keeps hers disassembled in a sling pouch, so it almost looks like a small backpack. Hill grabs her holster and a jacket to put over her shoulders. Hill camouflages the jet and closes the hatch.

          Clint chuckles. “Better not forget where we parked, huh?”

          “Shut up and get moving.” Hill growls.

          “Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine.” Clint snarks back.

          “This is serious. We are here to bring someone in, not to crack jokes.” Hill snaps. “Pull your crap together and be professional or I will hit you.”

          Natalia lashes out, putting an arm around Hill's neck.

          “Nat!” Clint shouts. “Let her go!”

          “If you ever threaten my partner again, you won't live to see the next day. You will be dead before your body hits the ground. Am I clear?” Natalia growls.

          Hill pulls against her arms. “Yes. Now let me go before someone sees.” she hisses.

          Natalia shoves her forwards and Hill catches herself on hands and knees. She rubs her throat and glares at Clint before stalking off towards the safe-house.

          Clint stops Natalia. “And to think that you got me to join by you telling me the exact same thing.”

          “Not in so many words. And definitely not in your favor.” she smiles before readjusting her grip on the strap of her pack.

          When they reach the front doors, Clint looks at them in agreement with Nat. _Definitely crappy enough._ It's one story with broken windows, and the door hangs lopsided on its hinges. The wind gusts though it as if the whole building is sighing sadly in neglect.

          Clint lets Natalia go before him, keeping Hill in his and her sight. Clint does a turn around the house and slumps his shoulders. Not even a couch. There is an old wooden table, a single broken light bulb in the ceiling, a rusty old stove that probably doesn't work, and lastly, a squatter's pile of cigarettes. _Hooray! Not. :(_

          He hears a muffled yelp outside somewhere and excuses himself to do his business. He hears it again and realizes that it's not human. It's an animal. He dashes off towards the sound and finds and old man beating a dog with a bat. The dog is covered in dirt and grime and blood, but Clint doesn't have to know what kind it is to want to help.

          He grabs a rock to throw and whips it towards the man's head. It hits the man and Clint spares him nothing as much as a second glance. He goes to the dog and slowly drops to his knees. It looks up at him with with a pleading brown eye. Clint strokes its ear and the dog whines pitifully. He lays his snout on the ground and heaves a breath. Clint takes off his jacket and wraps it around to dog before hoisting it over his shoulder. It yelps in surprise and squirms, but Clint won't let him go. He settles down after a few moments and Clint starts to walk back to the safe-house. It's a big enough dog that Clint is holding his haunches down near his hips, while the dog's 'elbows' are up over his shoulders.  
He reaches the door and calls for Nat. She sees him with the dog and she tilts her head.

          “You didn't go to the bathroom, did you?”

          Clint shakes his head and she helps him get the dog inside. Clint looks around, noting that Laura is gone.

          “Where's Agent Hill?”

          “She checking her sources to make sure that our informant is here. Once she's sure, she'll get a location and then report back to us.” she pets the dog's muzzle. “What are you gonna call it?”

          “I'm going to call him Lucky.”

          Natalia laughs. “How original.”

          Clint looks into that one eye and sees his reflection there. “Hey, Nat?”

          “Yeah?”

          “Can we check this place for running water? Just in case?”

          She looks at Clint and sees the hurt in his eyes looking at the d... looking at Lucky, and she puts a hand on his shoulder. “Okay.”

          He smiles at her just as Lucky licks her hand. She pets him again before leaving to check for water. Clint knows exactly what he's going to do. He won't have time to take care of it, but he knows who needs a dog right now.

          Hill walks in to see him still kneeling over it about a half hour later. She opens her mouth to reprimand him, but then Lucky looks at her with his one eye and she softens. His gray coat is dappled with white. His head is mostly gray aside from the white speckling on his nose.

          “No idea you had a caring side, Chanceler.” The name startles him a little, having been chatting with Nat for the last half-hour.

          Lucky sits in front of Clint, roughly half-asleep. He lays down and Clint puts his jacket over him. Hill leaves hers too, even though that leaves her holster in the open.

          “We have to go. I got a location on our guy. Vincent DeMarco. He's staying in a hotel just east of here. In twelve hours he'll be gone, so we have to move quickly.”

          Clint nods and grabs his rifle, stowing his bow out of Hill's sight before she turns around. He straps his gun to his back before grabbing twin pistols out of Nat's stuff.

          “Nat, we've gotta get moving!” he shouts. “Hill found us a location.”

          Nat steps out of another room in her black body suit. Her red hair billows around her shoulders as she sets her wrist bands to stun. She holsters two pistols that Hill looks surprised to see. Clint isn't shocked. Natalia probably could have gotten those through an airport if she felt like it.

          Something was bothering Clint, besides his dog being mistreated. And he thinks that maybe Natalia is catching on. Fury should have recognized him. But he didn't. Hill should have, but she was oblivious. Had Clint really changed that much in three and a half years? He's bigger than he was, he knows that much. It's still bothering him that Fury, of all people, should have known.

          Clint tells Lucky to stay put and hopes that his dog doesn't take off.

          They stay behind cover, avoiding the gaze of civilians as they move towards their objective. Clint thinks about Darcy to keep his mind off of Lucky. But thinking about Darcy makes him miss her. She was fun and exotic, and every second was an adventure with her.

          He looks around, realizing that they're in the middle of nowhere, long grass cropping up around him. Not an old hotel, more like a castle.

          He runs into Natasha's back as she stops. She scowls and flicks his ear before turning and pointing towards Hill, twenty meters ahead. She's beside a car that looks like it's from the 40s. She glances back at them and points towards a sentry on the western edge of the building. Clint pulls his silenced rifle and aims up. He inhales, bracing his arm against Nat's back, and fires. The guy falls over the edge and Hill jerks her chin towards the door.

          Clint doesn't like this. Something isn't right. Hill is moving towards the doors when she looks back at them, seeing that Clint hasn't moved, which has Natasha watching him. Clint shakes his head.

          “What's wrong?”

          “I'm not going in there. I can't. Something doesn't feel right. One guard for a high profile target?”

          “Clint, we have to get him out.” she whispers.

          Clint can feel the first signs of the fight or flight response kicking in and his eyes register something moving before his ears catch up.

          “GET DOWN!!!!!!” he shouts.

          Hill ducks and covered her head with an arm just as the doors explode outwards. One knocks her off her feet and she rolls away, dazed. Guys run out of the building and Natalia puts rounds into them. She runs out in one clip, switching to one gun for a couple of seconds while she reloads. Clint picks off the men flooding the roof who would have a better vantage point to shoot them while Hill scoots her way back over to them.

          A bullet tears into her side and she screams for help. She keeps moving, blood now leaving a trail as she goes. Clint breaks from his cover behind a newer vehicle to grabs the back of her tactical vest. As soon as she's behind cover, she grabs Nat's arm.

          “Do you have your medical kit?”

          Natalia looks shocked by the amount of blood she's already lost. “Yeah, one second. Mark, you'll have to hold them off by yourself for a sec!”

          “Like you doubt me.”

          Clint takes one of her pistols while pulling his bow bag over his shoulder. He pops a few guys heading for cover, then shakes his bow to extend it. He hands Nat her gun and straps his arrows to his back.

          “This is going to hurt.” he hears her say.

          Then Hill is screaming. She thrashes, knocking the fresh roll of bandages away from their cover.

          “Uh oh.” Natalia pauses before starting away.

          “Nat! Come back!” Clint shouts. “Get back behind.....!”

          He sees the blood spray from her shoulder as a bullet tears through it. He looses an exploding arrow along with a concussive while he rushes to her side, grabbing the bandage and Natalia.

          “Can you doctor yourself?” Clint asks Hill.

          “Yeah, just hold them off.”

          “Done.” Clint says.

          Natasha pulls her gun and pops up over the edge of the car. She fires until she runs out and then switches hands. As she does so, she sees a guy in her peripheral vision. He's coming up behind them. She's too slow and he knocks Clint over the head with the butt of his gun, but she's fast enough to put one in his head before he can shoot either of the girls.

          “Mark!”

          Natalia can see the blood in his hair and she sees red. Clint is her family, and she would die before letting some mob members take him away. She runs into the fray, picking up a dead body as cover and taking out guys hand-to-hand. She shoots anyone out of her reach and snaps anyone's neck who gets too close.

          Meanwhile, Clint is coming to behind the car and he grabs his bow. “That hurt.” he whines.

          Laura laughs before coughing. Clint peeks over the top and sees Natalia mowing down enemies. He looses more arrows to cover her and she looks back. Relief washes over her before she turns back to her fight. She leaps onto a man's shoulders and clamps her thighs around his neck.

          Clint does not envy him. Mostly cuz he's definitely a dead man. His vision blurs as he nocks another arrow and his aim goes wide. It grazes his target's shoulder, still surprising him enough to knock him on his back. Clint sinks against the car and presses the side of his face into the metal of the car. He pants as nausea passes and glances at Hill.

          She's not moving.

          “No, no! Hill, wake up! Laura, do not make me hit you!” he checks for a pulse and sighs in relief at the thready bouncing beneath his fingertips. He checks her bandages and finds it loosely wrapped. She must have passed out before securing it.

          Clint finishes it for her and tries to ignore the rasp that is her breathing.

          Nat's voice startles him and he pulls a knife from the holder on his thigh. “How is she?”

          “Alive, so far. You clear?”

          “Yeah, I need a hand securing the inside. Is she stable?”

          “For now.”  
Clint grabs Hill's sidearm and hands a clip to Natasha. He follows her into the building and keeps close to her side. He walks backwards, checking their 6, then turns around and follows Nat lower into the building.

          A spiral staircase leads down to two doors. The one is open, and is obviously an armory. The other has a deadbolt, which Natalia immediately picks. The door creaks open with a long groan and she recoils at the smell. Mr. DeMarco has been dead for a long while. This was a trap.

          “Looks like you were right, Clint.”

          “We have to get back to Hill. She needs help, and fast.”

          Natasha rushes back up the stairs, Clint hot on her heels.

          Once they get outside, Clint is shocked to see Lucky dragging Hill back towards the safe-house. He's made about a hundred feet of progress before Clint catches up and scoops Hill into his arms. Natalia sprints alongside him with Lucky kind of tagging along. He barks and snaps at something, but Clint isn't sticking around to find out what. Not long before Clint reaches the jet, Lucky catches up. He has blood on his snout and paws.

          Nat opens the hatch and has the jet cycling up by the time Clint gets Hill settled in the back. She groans in pain before lazily opening her eyes.

         “Hill, hey, Hill!” Clint snaps in front of her face.

          “Mark, get me... to th.the cockpit. I... ne...need to make a, a call.”

          Clint does as she asks and Natalia gets the jet in the air. The person on the other side answers and it's Maria Hill.

          “Maria...”

          “What happened to you! Are you...”

          “I need you to listen to me.” Hill speaks fast. “I know I can be.... hard to please. But I don't have too long and I want you t... to know that I love you, little sis. Okay.”

          “No, I can't be here without you.” Maria looks desparate.

          “Maria, you can. You are strong and I need you to... keep doing what you love, even if I'm not there to help.”

          “No, Laura, please. I'm having a medical team stand by for when you get here.” Tears are coming down the younger Hill's face.

          “Maria, it's an eight hour flight at top speed. I don't have that long.” she gasps in pain.

          “Laura, don't go! Please, no.”

          Clint carries her to the back of the jet before seating himself in the bloody chair that Hill was just occupying. He looks at Maria Hill's expression. “I'm sorry.”

          “Don't be sorry. I don't want sorry from you. What happened out there?”

          “Our informant was dead before we even got into town. They laid a trap, and she was at the doors when they blew. She got shot in the side.”

          “Did she black out?”

          “No, she was crawling back to cover when I went out to get her. Natasha started treating her and Laura kicked away the bandages while Natasha was sterilizing. She went to get them, but ended up shot herself. Laura was trying to patch herself up when she passed out and the bandage didn't get secured. When I finally got around to noticing, she was already unconscious.”

          “How many were there?” Maria asks.

          “I don't know, a lot. I couldn't count how many we took down.” Clint doesn't have to pretend to sound sorry. “We shouldn't have let her get so far ahead. I wouldn't go in because something didn't feel right, so she was stopped at the doors, waiting.”

          “Mark, don't beat yourself up. You did everything you could. It sounds like.... like it was better she didn't go in.” Maria is still crying.

          “We'll bring her back to you.” Clint says. “If we could do more, we would. But neither of us are doctors.”

          “Are you even listening to me? I'm not blaming you.” Maria huffs, chuckling.

          Clint nods, then tells Maria that they'll try to make her comfortable. They end the call. Clint retreats to the back to find Laura still awake.

          “She never liked sorry, you know? She didn't care if it was your fault or not. Sorry never did her any good.” She chokes a little, her eyes glassy. “It never really does any good.”

          “I'm going to make her a pot-roast.” Clint chuckles. “For putting up with you.”

          She laughs painfully. “Oh, she'd hate that. Not even a condolence. Just..ah... Just a prize for keeping up.” she giggles.

          Clint laughs too, her strange morbid sense humor catching him.

          “Take care of her for me? Please, Mark?”

          Clint sighs. “My name is Clint.”

          She smiles, and it's a sad smile. Knowing. “It suits you better than Mark.” her eyes widen. “I knew I knew you from somewhere.”

          “You were so mean.” Clint huffs.

          “Me? You're the one who was trying to choke me.” she laughs, pain washing over he rexpression. “Can I.... ask you something?”

          Clint hesitates. “Sure.”

          “Are you still an agent? With the KGB, I mean?”

          “No. Our handler warned us about things going sour from the inside, and so we dropped off the grid.”

          “Our?” she glances at the front. “The Black Widow?”

          “She's the one who brought me in. SHIELD wasn't what I needed at the time.”

          “I don't think it's what you need now either.”

          “What makes you say that?”

          She pulls in a weak breath. “I'm an analyst, and a field agent. I was glancing around in records and noticed some errors in the data files. Someone has been wiping them.”

          “Who?”

          “No idea.” she coughs. “I'd been tracking down who when I got recruited for this mission.”

          Clint narrows his eyes. “You don't think.....”

          “I do. Whoever was deleting the files hired these guys to kill me. And... and I want you to keep looking.” she wheezes. “Join if you have to, for access. Don't tell Maria.” she winces. “Keep looking.”

          Clint looks away. “I don't know if..”

          “We will.” Natalia says, suddenly next to him.

          He's used to it by now. He looks back at Laura and nods.

          She looks up at the roof of the jet. “Thank you. Please take care of her.” Tears run down the side of her face. “Take care of her.” she repeats. “You're good people.”

          “We're assassins. We're not good people.”

          She smiles. “I can tell the difference, Clint.” she heaves one last labored breath and then her muscles relax.

          Clint rubs a hand down his face. “It was my mission. I was on point.”

          “Clint, that doesn't make this your fault. She even told you that.”

          He shakes his head. “You remember what Fury said? 'Keep everyone alive'.”

          He doesn't understand why this is hitting him so hard.

          “Clint, couldn't you tell?”

          “Tell what?” he scoffs. “That the person who should be alive, isn't? And that's my fault?”

          “She was proud of you.”

          “She what?” he asks.

          “Didn't you see her face? Were you even looking when you told her the truth?”

          “No.”

          “She told you to take care of her little sister, and that we, KGB assassins, are good people. She was proud of you.”  
Clint nods and Natalia hugs him around his shoulders. They leave Laura sitting where she is and Clint retreats to the other side of the quinjet. Natasha checks to make sure the autopilot is still engaged before joining him. With His head leaned on Nat's shoulder, he could almost make himself believe that Laura was only sleeping.

          He's killed a lot of people. Who would have thought that it would be someone he didn't that ended up crushing him with guilt?

          He sleeps fitfully the rest of the flight back to the carrier. His only comfort is Natalia singing in Russian. Her accent is back and it lulls his tired mind towards real sleep. He dreams of losing Nat, and Ghost. Losing Darcy.  
Darcy.

          “Come here, Lucky.” he murmurs.

          The dog has been silent the entire ride, not uttering a sound. The dog responds and presses up against Clint's leg. His chin rests on Clint's thigh and the dog whines. His presence is comforting.

          Natalia gets up when the board chimes a half mile. She gets up and slows the jet. She brings it down gently, with the most careful of hands, and opens the back hatch. Maria Hill is already waiting for them. In Clint's wakeful moments, he cleaned up as much of the blood as he could, trying to minimize the impact to Maria. She still covers her mouth with both hands and turns away. Clint walks down the ramp and puts a hand on Maria's shoulder.

          “She wanted you to know she was proud of you.” Clint murmurs.

          Maria bursts into tears and turns around, pressing into Clint like a lifeline. Lucky sits down by his heels like a guard dog with Natasha slightly behind him.

          The coroners show up and put a white sheet over Laura's body. Clint and Natalia are quickly debriefed and put on leave. Clint tells Nat he'll catch up to her and makes a stop in New York.

          He calls Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Be happy, he's getting Darcy. Just don't kill me for killing Hill. My next chapter is going to be very late. I'm leaving on a trip and can't take my laptop. I figured out how I'm going to work it out, but I just haven't finished the chapter. Hopefully soon with the way I type.


	4. Blind-Sided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's up to the KGB what to do with their run-away agents. There's an open opportunity and they have a willing buyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It shouldn't take long for you to guess who the buyer is, but please feel free to allow others the mystery. I warn you that this will get murky for a little bit in the story line, so bear with me.

         “Hey, how's it going?”

         “Uh, one of my... coworkers just died.”

         “Meet me at the Howl's Diner on main. Okay? I won't be hard to spot. I'm using my car.”

         “What is it?” he asks.

         She huffs. “Do you ever read your messages?”

         “Not really.”

         “Well, start. Because I've been sending you pictures.”

         Clint laughs. “What time am I meeting you there?”

         “Just as soon as you get here. Find the place and I'll be waiting for you.” Darcy says.

         She sounds excited, and Clint can't really blame her. He remembers his promise to her in his letter and smiles to himself.

         “Okay.”

         He looks at his mailbox and sighs. He doesn't have time to go through 1,765 messages. So instead he looks at Nat's most recent.

_Need anything? Backup, perhaps?_

_**Nope, I've got everything handled here. Just relax, Nat. Find Ghost.** _

_Oh, he's right where we left him. Didn't stir up any trouble, surprisingly._

         Clint laughs and puts his phone in his pocket. He rides a car that he... borrowed, from a dealership. Though, how they didn't notice was beyond him. He finds the little diner, and surprisingly, a parking spot. All the cars are either gray, red or white. Except for one.

         He walks over to it and gapes at the beauty of the car. Then he remembers his manners and taps on the window, seeing Darcy with a book in her hands. She's sprawled hopelessly over the front seat, which has no console. But it does have a floor-shift.

         She looks up casually and waves, pulling her feet from the seat and smiling. She gets out of the car and Clint tilts his head.

         She's wearing his jacket. He comes around the car and takes her arm, closing the door gently. Her hair is still expertly curled, and her blue eyes are still just as beautiful.

         “Breakfast, Darcy?” he asks.

         “I could go for some pancakes. What do you think?”

         “I think that sounds perfect.”

         He kisses her on the corner of her lip.

         “Tease.” she giggles.

         “I have no idea what you're talking about.” Clint smirks.

         Darcy leads the way and steers them into the diner. Clint's mouth starts to water as he enters, the scent of breakfast (mostly bread stuff) and syrup reaches him. Darcy giggles again.

         “What?” Clint asks, pulling himself out of his reverie.

         “You look like you're in heaven.”

         “Naw. Just really close.”

         Even after all of his training, he never lost his value for a good breakfast. If you're not careful in the KGB it might be your only meal all day.

         A waitress seats them at a table and Clint pulls Darcy's chair out for her. She sits in it and watches him as he rounds the table to sit in his own. The waitress smiles approvingly at Clint and then asks Darcy what she'd like.

          “I'll take coffee, two creams three sugars. And three medium pancakes.” Darcy smiles up at the waitress.

          “All right, honey. And what can we do for you?” she asks Clint.

          “I'll take the same, except one less sugar for the coffee.”

          Darcy doesn't have to read her name tag. She's been coming here for years and knows Tracie pretty well. She's blonde, with brown eyes and light pink lips. She has two kids but still manages to be skinny as a twig. Her husband's name is Jack, and he comes in for lunch with her every once in awhile.

          She catches Clint looking at her, but he doesn't stop.

          “What is it?”

          “Just that you're as pretty as last year.”

          Darcy busts out laughing. “You're cheesy as always.”

          Clint quirks a brow in a silent question. “Thanks?”

          Darcy giggles again, and Clint can't stop himself from smiling because it is just too cute. Her blue eyes crinkle at the edges and her head drops, as if bashful. She looks up at him, still grinning from under perfect brown eyebrows, and that combination makes him want to melt into a puddle at her feet.

          Then she gets more serious. “So, um, who died?”

          Clint shrugs. “I didn't know her all the well. I met her years ago, but I never really forgot.”

          “Story, come on.” Darcy smiles.

          “Do you really want to know?”

          “Of course. It's bound to amuse me somehow.” she sniffs and looks up at the ceiling, closing her eyes as if she was offended by the question. She opens her eyes and glances at him, her lips spreading into a big grin.

          “So, I had just graduated at the top of my class.”

          “School?”

          “Sort of. KGB assassin school, more like.” he lowers his voice, but still gets an odd look from a man at the breakfast bar.

          Darcy snickers but pressures him onward.

          “SHIELD found our base and invaded it and my handler sent me out the back. A SHIELD agent was right there and I almost had her. Her sister showed up and clocked me over the head. I was so dazed I couldn't really fight back, so she cuffed my hands behind me and took me against my will to the SHIELD hellicarrier.” he sighs. “And then we went on a mission a couple years later with her, and she got killed.”

          She puts a hand over his and looks at him with kind blue eyes. “It wasn't your fault.”

          “That's what she told me.” he looks away. “How's your dad?”

          “He's still a workaholic. He's been chugging away on some new project or another. He needs a distraction, but he just won't pull away from his work long enough for me to do anything. He might start using a drip pan as a bathroom pretty soon just so he won't have to leave.”

          “I found your solve.” he says.

          “And what might that be?” she asks, curiosity lacing her tone.

          Clint smiles and puts a twenty on the table. “Come with me.”

          She grabs his hand and he pulls her out the door towards “his” car.

          Lucky is obediently waiting in the back seat.

          She gasps when she sees him. “He's so cute. I want him.”

          “He's yours if you really think that this will help your dad. I don't have the resources right now to take care of him, and he needs a good home.”

          “I'll do it.” she says.

          She hugs Clint and pecks his cheek. He watches Lucky sniff her and then start licking her repeatedly. She scratches Lucky behind his ears before giving Clint one last hug.

          “Thank you. He just needs something he can take care of that he has something in common with. Projects won't do that for him, and I'm all grown up.”

          “Good luck.”

          He watches her drive away in her Challenger and smiles. He has a feeling he'll see her again.

          Clint returns to the safe-house and finds Natalia waiting for him. "Good, you're back. Ghost was starting to worry.'

          "Aw, I knew he cared about lil' ol' me." Clint drawls, huffing. 

          He walks into to room and glances around. Nothing is burnt, or riddled with holes. Ghost is still here and Natalia seems at ease. Huh. Ghost actually managed not to get attacked while Clint was gone. How....nice.

          And then Ghost whips towards the window. He starts for Clint, pointing, and Clint looks over. The whistle of an oncoming projectile greets his sight as he glances out the window, seeing a missile.

          Ghost jumps for him and pulls him out of the way as Natalia finds cover. Clint and Ghost are thrown back as it explodes. The heat burns against Ghost as he hangs onto Clint. They hurtle towards the wall with terrifying speed and Ghost hits the floor, landing on top of Clint. He shields him with his own mass, but ends up rolling off with a sudden urge to find Natalia. Clint is safe for now, but the building is burning.

          Ghost pulls his black mouthpiece over his lower face and looks around. He checks on Clint after futile attempts to go anywhere. Clint's arms are burned, but not too badly. Both of his ears are bleeding. Ghost rolls him over and his lip is cut, and there's a piece of wood sticking out of his arm.

          “Natalia!” Ghost shouts. “Natalia!”

          Clint coughs under his hands, but doesn't wake up. Ghost pulls Clint over his broad shoulders with a heavy breath. He trudges through the flaming building, careful not to knock into anything.

          Clint groans. “Nat.”

          “I know, Clint. We'll find her.” Ghost answers, knowing fully well that Clint isn't actually conscious, but he needs something to keep him moving.

          “ _Ghost_.”

          Ghost turns and he sees Natalia. She has a board sticking up through her side. A really long splinter. She has a smear of blood on her forehead, but he can't see much else through the fire. “Natalia!” he shouts.

          He moves as quickly as possible to reach her, but Clint makes maneuvering difficult. His chest aches as he sees the spike through her. It's sticking out just above her hip and she groans. Ghost settles Clint on the floor next to her and rolls her slightly. The board went all the way through.

           “Natalia, you're going to be okay. You have to contact SHEILD. Your name is Natasha Romanoff.” he smooths the hair to the side of her face. “Repeat that back to me.”

           “My name is Natasha Romanoff. Don't worry. I know the drill.”

           Clint coughs and lifts up his head.

          “Clint!” Ghost shouts.

          Clint's face turns a little panicked. “Ghost! I... I can't hear!”

          Ghost kneels next to him and points to his lips. “Your name is Mark Chanceler. I have to go, so remember that.”

          “Mark Chanceler.” he mumbles. “Keep safe.”

          Ghost's lips tick upwards. Even half conscious, Clint can register what's going on. Ghost heals Natalia dial and he puts a hand in her hair.

          “I'll see you soon, little widow.”

          “I'll hold you to that.” she mumbles as the phone picks up. She starts shouting into the phone. “This is Agent Romanoff and I need medical evac now. Agent Chanceler has been injured and I have been..... skewer ed.”

          “We're tracking your phone. Sending evac now.” the woman on the other end responds efficiently, and calmly. Too calmly.

          It's like this is an everyday occurrence for her. Natalia hates it. Her partner is deaf and she's bleeding with various cuts and bruises, and this woman gets to be calm.

          Clint groans and looks up at her. She winces as she wipes blood away from his forehead, revealing a cut about three inches long.

          “You're going to be okay.” she mouths.

          He nods and tries to sit up. The building creaks and Clint looks up before Natasha knows what's happening. He tackles her to the side, ending up trapped underneath a rafter. Luckily for him, his hips are fairly narrow and Natalia is able to pull him out. He staggers to his feet and drags Natalia with him, letting his eyes and the vibrations under his feet guide him. Natalia is struggling to hold his weight and keep moving with the wound in her side. He manages to kick the door open after finding it wedged shut from the other side. His singed arms tingle with heat.

          Natalia starts to speak, and Clint can feel her chest rumbling so he looks at her. He only catches the last bit.

          “.....ing's coming down. We need to get outside.”

          With the elevator being an unsafe option, they stumble down the stairs together. Natalia groans in pain as they get outside and Clint gets her propped up against a light post. He pulls her hand away from her left side. She tries to resist, but she's becoming weaker with blood loss. Natasha cranes her neck to look over her shoulder and she opens her mouth, pushing at Clint. He looks up and sees the incoming missile and grabs her. He blacks out after being thrown away by the explosion.

….....

          Consciousness comes and goes. Sirens wail in her ears as she rides in the back of something big. She's tried to open her eyes, but her brain seems to have the door sealed with a big sign that reads, 'Not until you sleep!' and so she does. She knows her body should hurt more than it does, but she also knows that SHIELD came to get her. That means the good drugs aren't very far away.

          When she finally has the strength to open her eyes, she feels rested, but kind of like she's been mugged by an unfriendly SHIELD agent. The light is almost too much and she squints until she gets used to it. No one immediately rushes in when her heart monitor picks up, but she doesn't care.

          Flashes of pain spark in her memory, but nothing else. No people, no faces. Her side stings with a wound she doesn't remember.

          Finally, someone comes into the room. “Good morning, Marta.”

_Marta? Is that my name?_ “Good morning.” she answers. “Where am I?”

          “You're in the hospital. You were at work at night when you fell and hit your head. One of the other scientists found you.”

          “Which one?”

          “The, uh, the bald one? I think his name was Jasper.”

          Should she know who that is? “I don't remember.” she shakes her head.

          “It should come back to you soon.”

          His face is friendly enough, but she can't take comfort in that when she can't even remember who she is. “What if it doesn't?”

          “We'll have to reteach you some things, is all.”

 

**Bucky's POV**

          He wakes up where he always does. He slips out of his cryo tube and shivers slightly. It used to bother him more, he thinks. But this time it's different when they wipe him. Everything goes white and when he comes back around, his head is pounding but he can't remember why.

          “Where am I?”

          “Good morning.”

          He blinks. “Who am I?”

          The woman standing before him tilts her head worriedly. “Don't you know me? Your name is Jason. Jason Bourne.”

 

**Bruce Banner's POV**

          He is so, so tired of all of this. He's been working on this project for years. He's never let it get out of course, but he did send it to a Marta Shearing. She'd been in an accident, so she probably doesn't remember it by the sounds of the doctor's report. She's been a trusted ally for years, though he's never met her. He can come out of hiding for a little bit now that he's joined a private military. Normally, he'd go non-violence, but it's the first place that General Ross would overlook. And as long as he made it look good, he could pull it off. Bruce was rising in rank quickly, and was becoming less and less a part of the fighting.

          Today, they sent him a recruit. His name is Aaron Cross. He'd been in a rehabilitaion program for six months, which is amost as long as Bruce had been sending data to Doctor Shearing. Supposedly, she was a former member of SHIELD.

          Aaron is a complete wild card. He can barely sign his own name, and now Bruce is wondering if there's a reason for it. Besides the IED that he was caught in. He'd healed up very well, considering how he looked after the fact. He'd needed a small skin graft on his shoulder and he was declared 80% deaf. But the rehabilitaion program must be working for him. He reads lips as quickly as any practiced deaf. But he's also strong and fast. And he's super-intelligent.

          Eric Bryer. Aaron Cross. Marta Shearing. All important players, especially Eric considering that that's who Bruce is pretending to be. He had promised himself that he would never change who he was, but things changed after Ross's stunt in Harlem.

          Aaron was a little bit nerous, and twitchy, but all first-timers are. Sometimes he spaces off, as if trying to remember something. That's when Bruce wonders about him, and if he's still missing parts of himself. It's the little things that Eric notices. Like the way he signs his name, even if it's shaky anyway, that it starts with a small c-like loop, as if he was starting a different word. He'll doze off in the barracks some afternoons and mutter about names that Bruce has never heard.

          Eric (Bruce) has asked him about it, but Aaron always says he doesn't remember. Eric is starting to think that maybe he just can't. Something happened and his head is so messed up that he can't. Maybe that's for the better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you will note the character who plays Eric and the character who played Bruce in the Incredible Hulk, you will see a stunning similarity, and I'm also using that to my advantage. Am I crazy for trying this? If so, Oh well. Sorry for the short chapter, but I just got back, so updating and settling back in are at an impasse.


	5. An Inkling of Memories

**Ghost's POV, 1973**

          New kill orders. No idea why.

          The gun feels familiar in his hand, and so he figures this must be normal. He must have done this before. But why can't he remember?

          It doesn't matter. He doesn't need to remember. He just needs to complete his mission. A picture of a man named Howard Stark rests in his lap. He looks up into the mirror at his clean-shaven face and short hair. Out of what must have been an old habit, he smooths the bangs to one side.

          He flinches as some impression races over his mind. _Maybe she's got a friend._

          He turns away from the mirror and starts to strap his weapons on. It's time to act.

          Pulling out of the room, he walks outside and swings a leg over the side of his motorcycle. Driving quickly, while it's still dark, he reaches to waterfront, where the boat with his target laps at the  planks of a pier. Silently, and carefully, he picks his way along the edge, avoiding the gaze of late-night fishermen out for a pleasure cruise. The water shimmers as his dark shadow cascades across the ripples.

          Painstakingly quiet, he jumps over the rail of the boat and lands in a crouch. He pulls a gun out and shinks the slide back. Ever so slowly, he slinks through the open glass sliding door that leads to the bout's lounge. There he is.

          White-haired with age, he can't help but wonder why they would bother killing this man. Even though he is a weapons contractor, what harm could he do? He'd retire soon.

          The Soldier comes to stand in front of him and stares blankly at the child sleeping on the skinny man's chest. He's so small, and innocent.

          Something pricks at him. _Pick on someone your own size._

          The child on Howard's chest suddenly stirs and looks at the man standing in the shadows. His brown eyes burrow into this man's very soul and he takes a step back. The man looks back to his target and loses his nerve as more memories strike at chords in his brain.

 _I did say a few years, didn't I?_ The twitch of a professionally curled mustache and a dashing man tears at his mind. _BUCKY, NO!!!_

          The man in black drops to his knees and groans, holding his head. This wakes Stark and blue eyes under thick white eyebrows raise in confusion.

          “Barnes? I thought you were dead?”

          The man pulls his gun up and Stark reels back, reaching for something. He gets a shot off, but it doesn't seem to affect Stark. But only at first. He stumbles as the little boy starts to cry and the man's resolve breaks. He rushes for the edge of the boat and hits the deck as a bullet hits him in the back. Another follows it and he topples over the edge. Smacking into the water, his vision goes white.

 _Sargent James Buchanon Barnes, of the 107_ _th._.

 

**Marta Shearing's POV**

          They were right. Sort of. It's been six months.

          The whole relearning of science actually wasn't too hard. It was just putting names to faces that she was supposed to remember that was hard. And what she had done.

          “Do you remember..... sorry.”

          It's hard to tell for sure what's really coming back and what's been helped along by her friends. Her skill in her field of study, which she enjoys. Meeting with theNumbers is always intriguing when something is a little off. There's one who talks to her more than the others.

          He's just started as number five in the line of subjects. He always comes back normal, but there's been more than one occasion where she's had to put him to sleep.

          She's asked him already to count back from 100 more times than she can count, but the strange thing about him is that he never does it in English. And there are other things he says in the language that she thinks she should know. Sometimes she finds herself counting back with him.

          Over the next two months, there's a six, and a seven, and an eight. The patients get more spread out over time, not needing to come back so often. She gets back to working on her new project.

          She's going to make it possible to viral out the chems so that they aren't so dependent. She's been studying the strain for months now, ever since number 7 was put into action. She doesn't think it very fair for them to have to come back all the time. Thoughtfully tapping her pen against her lip, she calculates roughly how many months she's been in the lab. Eighteen. Plus the six she spent relearning everything. She stops, swallowing. 

          "I need a vacation." she rubs her face, looking down at her test tubes.

          It's beyond difficult, but it's the most interesting thing aside from working with the subjects that she does. Working in her lab to balance each equation just right, and then only to find out that she was wrong somewhere and starting over. She feels like she's missing something here, but she's not sure what it is. She is in her field of study, apparently, and she just doesn't feel.... active anymore.

          Marta lines up a new row of test tubes and drops a different enzyme into each one. The proper marker rests in front of them, and she watches half of them fizzle out within the first five seconds. Four remain. One of her beakers breaks and she flinches. The other three stay quiet, but the one has formed bubbles, a sign of failure. Puffing her hair away from her face, she keeps an eye on the last two.

          She lightly swirls the two and watches the one turn colors. Immediately tossing it into the trash, she smiles at the sizzling of burning plastic. If anything, burning things is fun. The last tube holds consistency and she smiles. _Finally._

          Sadly, there only data she has around is for the green chems. One thing at a time, she supposes. She puts in a request for the patients to come in and the board allows it, but only over the span of a couple months, instead of right away.

          The first four ask questions about why they had to come in, and Marta smiles, updating information and answering what she can.

          Number five, as usual, is a little different.

          He signs to ask why he's there, and Marta responds with a simple answer. _Medications._

          He huffs and rubs the side of his head. She turns his head a little more to the side to look for his hearing aids. He doesn't resist her, but there's something about his gaze that makes her think she should know him.

          Marta signs to ask him how his aids are working, knowing that he prefers signing to speech. His mouth ticks up. He tells her they're fine and then asks about her memories.

          She grabs his wrist to make sure his heart rate is normal. He grips her wrist back, and it feels all too familiar.

          Out of something of a habit, she tugs his chin up and kisses his forehead. He smiles.

          He signs out 'sister' and she tilts her head.

          'Brother, I need you to count back from a hundred for me, okay?'

          And so continued their ritual. She wishes she could be there when he has to go through the green chems viraling out, but she has work to do.

 __ **Clint's POV**

          Aaron jumps down from a tree to collect a deer. His large frame trembles with a sickness that he hadn't realized was coming on until he had gotten back to his post. The snow is making his already achy muscles stiff.

          He pulls the deer back to his shelter and strips it's skin as fast as possible. _Did Dr. Shearing make me sick?_ He shakes his head to clear the thought. She wouldn't do that. At least, not on purpose.

          Still, it doesn't take long for breathing to get rough, and he builds a fire with his dwindling supplies. He lies down near it, wrapping his blankets around himself and shivering.

          It's the middle of the night when he wakes up gasping, his muscles all seizing at once. He grips his chest and curls into a ball. He bites back a shout and shudders as he relaxes. He stretches out with a groan and manages to crawl to his knees. He wretches up his stomach contents, blinking back tears.

          He lies on the snowy ground, wheezing for what feels like hours before it starts all over.

          The next day is worse as he's trying to forage for food. He nearly falls out of his perch and he scares away his prey. His gun clatters down through the branches and lands with a thud in the snow. He climbs down the tree, the threat of falling becoming a much bigger possibility. He gets back to the edge of his campsite before collapsing in a heap of pain. He can hear the barking of the wolves nearby and prays that they don't steal his food. He may have been able to clean it out and set it up to dry, but that doesn't mean he has a lot to spare.

          He pulls himself close to the dying fire and throws the last of his wood on it. The cold will kill him before the sickness if he can't keep himself alive. With a shaky laugh, he wonders if he'll make it to his next appointment with Dr. Shearing.

          He hears a growl off to his right and turns his head. He sees the pack leader staring him down. He glares back before rolling over for a piece of meat. He offers it to the wolf and it growls at him.

          “Ah, just eat me.” Aaron grumbles. “No, no, wait, you actually might.” he chuckles breathlessly.

          The wolf's ears prick at the weak sound and it comes a little closer to sniff him. It can obviously tell he's unwell, since it doesn't seem to want to come any closer, but it hesitantly steps forwards to eat the offered meat.

_There, a peace offering, beast._

          Aaron doesn't have time to worry about it as pain makes him curl up again. He could almost swear he feels the wolf nudge him with it's nose, a whine emanating from its throat. Aaron passes out with a thick mass of muscle behind his back and the panting breaths of the wolf behind him.

_Huh. I think I've made a friend._


End file.
